Random Esquire

1.  Who’s usin’ twitter?  I’m Randomesq.  Be warned:  it ain’t pretty.

2.  QTMama has a date tonight with this guy she likes to snog.  I decided to make a bet with her.

Via Text, I dared her to work a phrase into casual conversation with the guy.  The phrase?  “…like tossing a hotdog down a hallway.”  I told her that if she did it, I’d buy her some K-cups for her Keurig.

She texted back:  “But, what does that even mean?”

At this point, I burst out laughing.  Then came her next text:  “I would totally say that.  I want K-cups.”

Then I told her what it meant.

She said, “It means that?  Dammit.  Okay.  I’m still saying it.”

This should be good.

3.  Instigator sent me a text tonight informing me that her daughter had just broken her (daughter’s) arm.  I asked how it happened.  Here’s what Instigator had to say:

“She fell out of a tree.  Still at hospital.”

“Scared shitless.  Thank God I wasn’t with her.  Poor little baby. Dr. happened to be in the park who stayed until we got there.”

“Her arm looked fucked up.  She was trying to show her sitter she could get out of the tree one handed cause she wanted her iTouch in her other hand.”

And then my favorite:

“That demonstration backfired.”

heh.  Instigator.

4.  I’m packing up for a quick little roadtrip this weekend.  Little Filthy is going to stay with his grandparents.  My mother said, “That little terrorist.”

*sigh*

I decided to indulge a little this morning.  This means I decided to eat a breakfast sandwich.  The ‘a little’ means it was on a whole grain english muffin, had turkey sausage, egg white and low fat cheese.

I can deal with this.  It tastes just fine to me.

But you know what ruined it very quickly?

That little bit of toenail you sometimes find in sausage.

GAH.

I wake and demand breakfast by leaping on Lawyer.  I eat.  I drink.

I go back to bed.

Lawyer leaves for work.  I get up.  I look out window.

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Sitcom has a blog.

Is awesome.

Is best blog.

Is better than Cats.

Would read it again and again.

1.  The Ballerina IM’d me today.  She informed me that she had a dilemma.  I grew a little concerned because she had just had a rather difficult morning so I did not know what to expect.

Ballerina:  I have a dilemma.

RE:  What’s up, Ballerina?

Ballerina:  a few months ago someone barfed all over one of the bathroom stalls on this floor.

At this point, I decided that perhaps someone on her floor had bulimia and she was trying to decide if she should tell someone or confront this person.

RE:  Oy.

Ballerina:  Like, projectile barf all over the place.

RE:  Holy crap.

Ballerina:  I saw it firsthand and almost barfed myself.  Since that day, I have not used that stall.  But I wonder…maybe I should?  It is maybe the cleanest stall now?

*Blink*

Yes, that’s right.  This was her dilemma.  Whether or not to use the now clean, previously barfed upon bathroom stall.  I suggested that yes, it was probably clean now.

Ballerina:  I feel there is maybe barf crusted in a crevice somewhere.

RE:  A very real possibility.

In the end, she decided to continue avoiding the barfy stall.

NEXT!

Little Filthy woke me up this morning, insisting upon breakfast. After he was fed and watered, I decided to let him in to the bedroom, where Besos was sleeping soundly. Immediately after eating, Little Filthy likes to make obnoxious growly noises while jumping around like a gazelle on the bed. After about 10 minutes, he falls back asleep but he acts like Wild Kingdom, first. He jumped up on to the bed, toy in mouth, and proceeded to pounce on Besos, making a racket. I think his crazy behavior is hilarious so I crawled back into bed to enjoy, stifling a laugh. Besos groaned, eyes clenched shut, and silently reach out her hand from below the covers, found Little Filthy and gave him a pat on the head. Then she reached across the bed toward me, feeling around. She found my head with her hand…and then gave it a solid push.

heh.

You may have noticed that my blog partner in crime, QTMama, wrote an entry on what she finds sexy in a man.  I would like to venture forth a list on what I find sexy in a woman.  First though, let’s take a moment to make fun of two things on QT’s list.

Let’s distinguish between things that are sexy and things that are just…SYSBD (shit you should be doing).  I think this falls into the SYSBD category:  “Doing what he says he’s going to do.”  You know why?  Because you said you were going to do it.  It isn’t like some mysterious, unspoken expectation that you have to mindread to fulfill.  You said you were going to do it – so do it.  This only relates to sex in so far as failing to do SYSBD means you might not get any.

Next up:  “A man that cares about kissing as much as he does sex.”  Bwah ha ha ha ha ha!  *cough cough cough* Bwah ah aha ha!  Like I said to QT:  You know why a guy would tell you that he cares as much about kissing as he does about sex?  So he could have sex with you. I translate this into meaning that foreplay makes a woman feel sexy and making out is a key part of that.  Yours truly learned that already, courtesy of Besos.

Enough of that – on to the (only slightly tongue-in-cheek) list – including one that has been a big point of discussion between me and Besos.

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I watched an interview with J.K. Rowling in which she was asked the questions I’ve listed below.  I was surprised by how quickly she was able to answer each one.  Her answers and mine after the cut.  How would you answer?

1.  What’s your favorite virtue?

2.  What vice do you most despise?

3.  What are you most willing to forgive?

4.  What’s your most marked characteristic?

5.  What are you most afraid of?

6.  What’s the quality you most like in a man?

7.  What’s the quality you most like in a woman?

8.  What do you most value about your friends?

9.  What’s your principal defect?

10.  What’s your favorite occupation?

11.  What’s your dream of happiness?

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Let’s triple crown today.

Is it okay to say, “Is there a mustache in Mexico?” when you mean, “DUH.” ?

Like how people say, “Is the pope Catholic?” or “Does a bear shit in the woods?”

I would like to say, “Is there a mustache in Mexico?”

Is that okay?

What say you?