Archive for the ‘sibling hilarity’ Category
Friday, July 30th, 2010
Internet, let me tell you about where I’ve been, in picture form, because the jet lag has me by the neck and is shaking me quite viciously, so I am not really in any mood or condition to be using my words.
Haha, fooled you! Even though there are going to be pictures, and even though I’m only 50 words in, I can tell you that you’re probably in for another 2000 words of unnecessary-ness, just like always. If you have to go potty, go now!
As usual, my trip started out AWESOME!
Remember the picture I posted of all of my belongings laid out on the coffee table? Phil packed them for me, including the laptop, into my checked bag. Which weighed 50.0 lbs. I think I had better use a lot of shampoo while I’m here, just to be safe.
Anyway, normally I carry the laptop in a backpack, along with my purse and oh, also a rolling carry on, because while some people are bingers and purgers and some people are cutters and some people jump from destructive relationship to destructive relationship, I like to express self-hatred by making myself as miserable and stressed out in airports as possible.
This time, though, I brought only a purse and a canvas bag full of library books. Now, I know that checking the laptop is not THE most brilliant thing I’ve ever done, but you guys, it was the most brilliant thing I’ve ever done. I was through security in under 2 minutes, my 6 trips to the bathroom were nearly unfettered, and I didn’t spend my entire pre-plane time clutching the straps of various bags to ward off roving bands of airport thieves.
While I was sitting and waiting to get on my flight, a guy walked by dragging a suitcase and carrying three bags of Wendy’s food. Interesting. He was followed by a man in a black polo who chose to accessorize his belt that day with a pair of handcuffs and a holstered handgun. Following them were two men, each holding a Wendy’s soda with two hands, and also, each was carrying a small white towel, laid over their hands. They were followed by yet another stern looking man, and they all went right to the counter at the gate and stood there, very close together.
You guys, you would be so impressed by how quickly I put together these totally random and minuscule and complicated details into one cohesive picture. I watch Monk, you know? I was basically Monk. I was all, “Hm, one very skinny man carrying TOO MUCH FOOD and two able-bodied gentlemen using two hands to carry a single soda each and also, a towel?” It was like, lightning fast in real life, you guys.
Anyway, when I got to the airport and printed out my boarding pass, the seat assignment was different than the toilet-seat I thought I had at home. When they loaded these gentlemen into the plane first, to take that back row of seats, it made sense. I got a free upgrade to an exit row so that the real, honest to goodness, handcuffs-covered-with-a-towel prisoners wouldn’t have to be separated from their gun-toting pals. Maybe it was their first time flying or something.
Thanks for the legroom, prison friends!
To top off my free exit row seat? There was no one in the middle seat. Just me, empty seat, and an off duty flight attendant against the window – an off duty flight attendant who DIDN’T SAY ANY WORDS TO ME THE WHOLE FLIGHT.
You guys, everything was coming up TJ.
Except, except, and of course there is an “except,” the guy in the middle seat in the row in front of me kept getting out to let his wife or their other seat mate in or out. And a couple of times, he would look into my row and comment about how much extra space I had, in a kind of expectant way. Like I was some kind of space-having jerk, and his gentle prodding would make me realize that and I’d let him have my seat. At one point, the lady sitting with me got up for a while, and the dude kept asking if there was anyone sitting there, between us, so that he could leave his cramped middle seat and come ruin our extra legroom, empty middle seat paradise. Oh, hell no. I had to give up a seat next to the toilet for this!
After a while, he just stayed standing for a long time, but not in the aisle. Since I had so much room, he just half-stood IN MY SEAT area for a good ten minutes or so. And then? And then? He look at me at one point and goes, “I’m practically in your lap!,” and RUBS MY BACK WITH ONE OF HIS HANDS.
I think my flinching away offended him, because then he told me that exit row seats have a huge drawback and it was that I had to lean forward to play mahjong on the touch screen monitor in front of me. No, sir, the drawback is that PLANE STRANGERS think that the concept of personal space extends to blocking half of my mahjong game with their butt and touching me with their PLANE STRANGER HANDS.
I also watched My Big Fat Greek Wedding.
Anyway, then I got to Newark.
I had a bit of a hard time finding my gate in Newark, because when I looked for it by following the arrows, I ended up in a weird basement that smelled like pee. I obviously assumed it was some kind of storage area, possibly the dwelling of the Phantom of the Airport, because of the way a random podium was shoved off into a hallway with an emergency exit and a broken pay phone.
Except no, that was my gate.
I didn’t care for Newark.
I went to my sister’s for a while, and by the time I got home, it was pretty late. After rolling out of bed the next day, I set out to fulfill my destiny as basically the king of getting married.
Of course, no one would expect me to proceed without fuel.
After a quick stop at Pappa’s to fulfill what was surely my cheese steak destiny, my brother – the only groomsman within reach – took me over to Sarno & Sons, where I basically kicked ass at picking out tuxes.
Actually, to be honest, which I am only going to do for this paragraph, our experience at Sarno & Sons was the best experience I have had with planning so far. The salesguy, Zach, realized that I basically had zero ideas and preferences and put together exactly what I wasn’t exactly sure I was looking for. I was making wedding decisions left and right with his help.
Ok, two decision, but they were multi-part decisions and also, two decisions is totally enough to satisfy the “left” and “right” portions of “making decisions left and right.
Non-grooms.
Grooms.
I knocked that out so fast that I decided to allow myself the night off from being the king of getting married, and went home to get ready to go out with my mom, sister and lady cousins.
After the bar, I went with my sister to her old apartment so that she could complete some moving tasks. It was so hot that she decided it was completely appropriate to pack and clean in her bra and underwear, but I don’t have a picture of that. Actually, I do, because outside the bar, she mooned me, and then tried to tell our mother that she was wearing shorts under her dress. She was most certainly not, and I needed the photo evidence for later tattling.
I do have this picture of my brother, though!
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?”
“It LOOKS like you don’t know how a couch works.”
Since my brother is home from college for the summer, my mom likes to keep the house stocked with his favorite snacks. That would be convenient for me, as well, if my brother was at all normal. Which he is not.
He did offer to share some of his raw rutabaga with me, though.
Yesterday, my mother and I went to visit a florist, a project I have been dreading because I have little to no interest in flowers and the last woman we visited was extremely obnoxious. However, in my new role as the king of getting married, it ended up going incredibly smoothly. Not only was the shop owner polite and the prices reasonable, they are also able to fulfil my mother’s dreams of wrapping shit in tulle, and hanging a draping canopy above the dance floor. And they’ll provide an aisle runner and a card box. Recognizing that a polite woman well within my price range is what we in the kings of getting married business like to call, “Good enough,” we dropped a deposit and took off for our next appointment.
Our next appointment, unfortunately, was to try on my dress, which I was reasonably certain was no longer going to fit. We needed to check to see if it would need to be let out, (or if I should maybe “let myself in” a little, but I’m very busy being the king of things, so that was unlikely), and what kind of undergarments I would need to wear.
Both questions were answered quickly.
It did fit and NOT THIS SLIP.
This picture depicts the scene of me less than halfway through digging out my own legs.
You guys, I have picked the groomsmens tuxes, Phil’s tux, my dad’s tux. I got my brother fitted for his tux. I picked a florist and made the deposit. I found out I am not going to have to schedule a nervous breakdown or “totally intend” to lose some weight to fit into my dress, and confirmed the fact that the bra to solve the giant boobs/wedding dress conundrum has yet to be invented.
Today, we’re going to meet with our venue coordinator to check out the guest and sweetheart table layouts for the reception, and go over all the details one last time. Saturday, I’m going to meet my mom’s hairstylist, going to pick out a cake, and then going to meet my sister’s hairstylist (to figure out which stylist is willing to override my mother’s bang-related wishes for my wedding hair), followed by hunting down some wedding shoes and wedding jewelry.
Sunday, I am going to my bridal shower, where I assume my throne will have been delivered because I am SO TOTALLY THE KING OF GETTING MARRIED.
Phil sent me this picture.
Even kings of things miss their dogs.
And their Phils.
Posted in Brinkley + Sheldon, Somebody's getting maawwweeed, daily BS, sibling hilarity | 8 Comments »
Thursday, March 4th, 2010
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.”
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
Posted in sibling hilarity | 13 Comments »
Thursday, July 23rd, 2009
Two nights ago, Phil had laid down to watch the news and I was sitting on the edge of the bed with the laptop, finishing up some work. I wasn’t really paying attention to the news, but there was a story going on about how police had gotten report of a child in a car, and when they went to check it out, they found drugs in the child’s diaper. I turned just in time to see the headline they were using for the story.
“METHY” DIAPER
Oh, I laughed and laughed, but Phil didn’t laugh at all, which has seriously caused me to question the long term potential of this relationship, because COME ON.
However, wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt, I sought a second opinion. Knowing it was midnight in PA, I texted my sister instead of calling, saying “I HAVE SOMETHING HILARIOUS TO SAY.”
Of course, my phone immediately rang, and, after relaying the story, my suspicions were confirmed as my sister also found it to be HILARIOUS. So there is either something wrong with Phil, or something wrong with BOTH my sister and I, which seems far less likely!
So anyway, the next day I am talking on the phone to my sister, who had worked numerous double shifts in a row, was tired, and was waiting for her coffee to finish brewing.
Kate: How do you know if your coffee pot has a Pause & Pour feature?
TJ: You pull out the pot, and if it pauses, you have one.
Kate: Oh. Ok. Oh, oh, it’s dripping. OH OH NO! OH IT’S EVERYWHERE!
TJ: *hysterical laughter*
Kate: Oh it’s not stopping, OH NO.
TJ: *hysterical laughter*
Kate: Why would you encourage me to TRY THAT?
TJ: *hysterical laughter*
Kate: You’re such an asshole.
TJ: How bad is it?
Kate: It’s a meth, ok? IT’S A HUGE METH.
Posted in daily BS, sibling hilarity | 13 Comments »
Monday, July 13th, 2009
Hey Internet,
What’s up? Long time no talk. The internet works both ways, you know, guys. Frankly, I’m a little hurt. I mean, you don’t call, you don’t write, you don’t send me flowers any more. I thought to myself, “You know, self, why don’t you just sit back and let the Internet come to you for a couple days?”
And you know what?
IT DIDN’T.
Anyway, I forgive you. It’s no big, really. Please, don’t get up. Let me tell you what’s been going on around here, in generic and informational bullet point format.
- Work: I’m busy!
- Arizona: It’s hot!
- Brinkley: Brinkley was a little sick last week, sort of… I don’t know? It was up and down. Every time we’d start to be genuinely concerned… he was fine. I can tell you, though, he was having fresh cooked rice while I was eating from the drive through, so he didn’t really suffer that much.
- Phil: I’ve got a couple of new things I like to do to annoy hm. Is that perverse? I mean, that I deliberately look for little things that will drive him nuts? Does everyone do that? I don’t, you know, kick him and then run away*, but for example, two recent tactics: I use the bathroom before him at night and squeeze the toothpaste from the middle and wait for him to notice it. Or I don’t straighten out the blankets when I get in bed and instead pull the sheet and duvet over me upside down, with the sheet on top. Drives him NUTS and it’s HILARIOUS.
- My sister: I have yet to take revenge.
- Wedding plans: Oh god, I swore I wouldn’t make this a wedding planning blog but OH MY GOD YOU GUYS OH MY GOD. I need a whole separate set of bullet points.
Secondary set of bullet points:
- I had to bribe my sister to be the Maid of Awesome.
- I don’t know what world my mother lives in, but an invitation list of 130 people and expanding is NOT A SMALL WEDDING.
- EVERYONE has objected to EVERYTHING. My sister had to be bribed to be the Maid of Awesome. My mother doesn’t approve of the fact that I am not asking a childhood friend to be an attendant. My cousin thinks my flower girl of choice will be too old. My sister HATES the idea of a March or April of 2011 wedding. My mother’s answer to me saying anything she doesn’t really care for is “You have plenty of time,” which is code for “You’ll change your mind.” It’s okay, though, because you don’t really have to decide anything until you’re about a year out and that is, in fact, plenty of time.
- Ok, breathe break.
- Still breathing.
- One more.
- And continuing. So fine, all of this can be sorted out with time, right? So I was telling my mom that my sister HATED the idea of March or April in Pennsylvania and had vocally and continually made her thoughts on the subject known and said “But you think March or April of 2011 is ok, right, Mom?” and she said “Well, aaaaactually…”
- *this is where I fainted and/or had a stroke, it’s all kind of hazy*
- “Well, aaaaactually… I think you should get married in 2010.” And here’s the thing, Internet – Phil and I actually do want to get married in 2010, but at the time we came up with the initial idea, it wasn’t possible. However, in between that time and the other day, we came up with a savings plan** and, while it will cut a significant portion out of the budget, we are going to be able to swing a 2010 wedding, and we agreed on a date before he went out for the night.
- October, in 2010.
- Every time he called to check in that night, I shrieked incoherently into the phone.
- There goes my “well, you have plenty of time” buffer.
- IT’S GONE.
- However, as of today, I’ve finished asking all of my chosen attendants to participate in my wedding, and they all said yes. Hooray!
Anyway, Internet. That’s what’s been going on with me. I would have told you, you know, if you’d called or something, but this is cool too. Don’t worry.
* There is some debate with regard to the kicking thing, and, Internet, I ask for your judgement. The other day, in the doctor’s office for a follow up on his surgery, Phil did something terrible. I can’t remember what it was, but it must have been just absolutely horrible, because I stood up and tried to kick him on the butt. I was wearing flip flops and don’t do much of anything, aside from shriek, with much force at all, so it is inarguable that Phil would not have been injured if said kick was completed. However, he chose to block my completely harmless kick with his forearm, resulting in a hideous wound in the form of a lumpy bruise to my shin. We are locked in a heated debate as to who is responsible for this wound. He says it is my fault, since I was kicking him. I say its his fault, because my kick would clearly not have harmed anyone, and he is the one who brought harm into the equation.
Phil: YOU kicked ME.
TJ: I did NOT. My kick was incomplete.
Phil: You kicked my arm!
TJ: I did NOT. One, you can’t kick with your shin. Two, you blocked. In WoW, when a warrior blocks, he doesn’t take any damage!
Phil: Well neither does the mob!
TJ: Which only makes my wound ALL THE MORE GRIEVOUS.
** We’re quitting smoking! It’s embarrassing how much money this will save us.
Posted in Somebody's getting maawwweeed, Yeah, I play WoW, daily BS, sibling hilarity | 34 Comments »
Monday, July 6th, 2009
So, Internet, you may notice that from time to time, I talk about my family on this site, but they don’t comment or otherwise appear.
That is because I have long refused to tell them where this site is. My mother is only vaguely aware that the site exists, my brother and father are clueless, and my sister has an insane determination to locate the site.
I haven’t told them, though, because I do not want to feel stifled. You know we are all different when we’re around our families than we are around our friends, even if our friends happen to comprise the entirety of the Internet. It sounds weird, I know, but I am actually extremely uncomfortable with people I actually know reading my writing. To be clear, I don’t actually consider blogging (my blogging, at least) to actually be writing, which is why I am okay with the Internet reading it, but you’ll notice that even though I now am an honest to goodness writer who gets paid for writing things, I have yet to tell you anything about those things or where you might read them. Because I’m not even comfortable with people I e-know reading my actual writing. I still don’t even really consider myself a writer, and probably never will.*
You may wonder how I’ve gotten away with this, but if you don’t know the words “Temerity Jane” and only know me in person, this site is remarkably hard to find. My full name brings up a Google page full of results on a certain actress. The site has managed to hide in plain sight for quite a long time.
Me: Why do you even WANT to read it! It’s boring!
Kate: Because you’re funny!
Well… yes, yes I am. But I still refused to tell her. I knew she’d try to look, and figured maybe some day, some how, she’d manage, but trust me – if you don’t know what you’re looking for, this page is hard to find.
Then, last Tuesday, glancing at my stats after the influx from the Whedon post, I noticed something, all the way at the bottom, about to get knocked off the list by the next visitor. A 20 minute visit from the Lackawanna County Library system.
Hm… my sister lives in Lackawanna County, PA. And she doesn’t have a computer, so she uses the ones at the library!
I called her. No answer. Text messages ensue.
Me: I’M ON TO YOU, SISTER.
Her: (knowing immediately what I’m talking about) Who, me? *innocent look including dimple flash*
Little while later, my phone rings.
Her: So… how mad ARE you?
Me: How did you find it!
Her: I don’t even remember.
Me: Oh my god, how long have you known?
Her: Um… less than a year.
Me: You are in so much trouble.
Her: I know. As soon as I got that text message, I was like, “Nooooooooooooo!”
Me: You haven’t told anyone, have you?
Her: No! And think about how I felt, I’d be sitting in the library almost peeing my pants and everyone was looking at me funny.
Me: YOU’RE GOING TO FEEL LIKE SUCH AN ASSHOLE IF YOU RUINED MY SITE.
Her: Nothing has changed! Keep it together!
So apparently, even after being told that I would prefer to keep my site private from my actual family, she found it one day and immediately felt so guilty she closed the page (after writing down the name, of course). And once in a while, when the temptation got to be too much, she would open the site and read only the front page, never going back in the archives, and she has kept this secret from me for almost a year. CONSUMED WITH GUILT AT HER DECEPTIVE WAYS.
As you know, however, later that day my attention was taken away by other, more shiny matters.
On Wednesday, she finally made her first blog appearance.
KATE, yo SISTA:
GUESS WHAT! since you got engaged you totally forgot how mad you were at me! SCORE! thanks phil!
oh yeah and congrats. sweet bling. i mean ring.
Oh, I didn’t forget. I did NOT forget.
So, Internet. Does your immediate family read your personal blog? Do they even know it exists? Have you gone to any lengths to deliberately conceal or hide it from your family? What would you do if your sister had been stealthily spying on your life for almost a year without saying a word about it? Even if she read a story on your site that you later told her and she pretended not to have ever heard it before? Would you mail her a box of dirt? Would you make her wear a giant bow on her non-existant ass in your wedding?
* Why I do not, and probably never will, consider myself a writer: I write a lot. I write all day every day. I write for other people who do not have the time to write things for themselves. They tell me their ideas and what they need, and I write it up for them. When I write here, on this site, I generally write about things that have happened. If you notice, there is a complete lack of original ideas in both areas. I do not have ideas. Writers have ideas. I am capable of the actual, physical act of writing, but not of creation from nothing.
Posted in daily BS, sibling hilarity | 30 Comments »
Wednesday, May 13th, 2009
Internet, yesterday I posted a list of things I needed to do. Most of them, in fact, did get done. Along with some UNPLANNED UNAWESOMENESS.
First of all? My sister called to tell me about a conversation with my dad.
Dad: So… how do I get this Facebook thing? Do I have to pay for it?
And then she directed me to look at her Facebook page.
So of course, I stomped downstairs to call my father and instruct him about the dire consequences of lying to the Internet is such a manner.
I was outside, lighting a cigarette and holding the phone to call him, leaning forward towards the lighter, and I lit my hair on fire.
Like, WHOOSH!, not just singed. I had to slap it out with my hand!
And then? My dad SCREENED my CALL!
So, figuring he was at the house and my brother was also at their house, I called my brother, told him what happened, and demanded he put my father on the phone. I then got to listen in as my brother physically WRESTLED my dad, trying to get him to take the phone, which ended in a mad dash through the house with my dad throwing shoes over his shoulder at my brother and eventually locking himself in his bedroom.
TO AVOID FACING UP TO ME FOR HIS SHOCKING FACEBOOK MISINFORMATION!
So, I did what any normal person would do, and called my mother to tell on him. She didn’t answer, but, just like a good mother, she called back later.
TJ: So, Dad joined Facebook and… and I just put my hand in bird poop.
(BIRD POOP, INTERNET.)
TJ: Yeah, so Dad joined Facebook, and he wrote on Kate’s page that she’s his favorite!
Mom: He did what?
TJ: Yeah! And then when I called to yell at him, he screened my call! And then I tried to get John to get him on the phone and he ran away and locked himself in the bedroom to avoid my rage!
Mom: I’m going to call him right now.
TJ: I told Phil I was going to tell you, and he said, what’s your mom going to do about it? And I told him you were going to kick his ass into next week!
Mom: I’ve got to go. I’m going to call him right now.
TJ: See, I knew you’d handle it.
Mom: I’m on it.
So, come to find out this morning that my mom did indeed give him what fot, as she is reliable like that.
So you think everything is peachy then, right?
BUT NO.
Just now? My sister called me. Because she just met Ryan Gosling. Just now. This second. He is standing on the street corner by her house in Scranton, Pennsylvania. She saw him at the LIBRARY where he was filming something, the library where she was currently PICKING UP A RYAN GOSLING DVD, and she TALKED to him.
And you know what? I DIDN’T.
This world is just one big bird, poopin’ on my head.
Posted in daily BS, sibling hilarity | 7 Comments »
Saturday, March 21st, 2009
JD fell asleep on a pen, Jesus’ face is now on his stomach.
TJ: Lies. You don’t have a stomach. You have a paper thin layer of flesh barely protecting the organs inside. Get it? Because you’re so skinny? Oh shut up, I never liked you.
JD: *Shreds up ticket to Phoenix*
TJ: You’ll come to Phoenix when I SAY you come to Phoenix. And you won’t need a ticket. You’re flying as cargo. I got you a real nice crate.
JD: I dont know if I can come, I just found out I’m deathly allergic to short, purple, and sucking at life.
Kate: THAT IS EFFING HILARIOUS. TJ, you got served.
TJ: I would agree that I “got served” if it were not for you using the phrase “you got served” in what appears to be seriousness. Now, the awe dedicated to marveling over any serving sent my way is replaced by jaw-dropped shock at the fact that you seem to have lodged yourself in 2004.
Posted in sibling hilarity | 1 Comment »
