Archive for the ‘Conversations With Lobsterface’ Category

Lobsterface: “Don’t cut my leg off, ok?”

Me: “Dude, if it’s a choice between your leg or your life, guess what? I’m cutting your damn leg off. End of story.”

Lobsterface: “Don’t cut my leg off!”

Me: “Chances are you won’t even be awake.”

Lobsterface: “I KNOW! That’s what scares me!”

Me: “This issue is closed.”

Lobsterface: “Don’t cut my leg off.”

We have this conversation at least once a week, ever since that episode of Grey’s Anatomy where Callie cuts off Arizona’s leg to save her damn life and now she’s all pissy about it.


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I couldn’t sleep last night, so in the middle of the night, I got up and cut myself bangs. As one does. This conversation happened when I crawled back into bed.

Me: “HUFF”

Lobsterface: “What’s wrong, love?”

Me: “I just cut myself bangs and I think it was a mistake.”

Lobsterface: “Can I see?” pulls out cell phone and turns on the flashlight feature because that’s easier than actually turning on the lamp. Apparently.

Me: “You could turn on the lamp, you know.”

Lobsterface: peers at me, all squinty like, as if I’m a beetle on a pin “…meh, I’ll still make out with you.” turns off flashlight, rolls over, goes to sleep.

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Sister: You know, my ex and I had some good times.

Me: You and your ex had the most awkward relationship in the history of ever. Hitler had less awkward interactions with Jewish people than you had with your ex.

Lobsterface: (yelling from the other room) THAT IS THE WORST THING YOU HAVE EVER SAID!


Mom: Well, I don’t think it was very nice, but it’s definitely not the worst thing you’ve ever said to your sister.

Me: Dude, he wasn’t talking about how mean I was being, he was talking about how insensitive I am about the Holocaust.

Mom: Oh.

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Me: Whatcha thinkin’ ’bout?

Lobsterface: I think, if I had a superpower, I’d like to have a hammer like Mjolnir, and be able to smash things with it like Thor, so that cars would fly across the parking lot and smash into buildings and I’d be able to call down lightening to strike anybody I was mad at all the time. Which would happen a lot. I’m generally angry at lots of people.

Me: I know.

Long pause…

Me: I think I’d like to be Corgneto.

Lobsterface: Corgneto?

Me: Yes. Like Magneto from X-Men, only with corgis. They would come to me, thousands and thousands of them, and they would be devoted to me. They would love me so much. They would have no choice, because I would be Corgneto.

Lobsterface: You may have a problem.

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Lobsterface: “Dear, your blog is in desperate need of updating.”
Me: “I know, but we haven’t done anything interesting on the house, we’re not finished painting the hall yet and I haven’t even cooked anything fun lately.”
Lobsterface: “Okay.” (goes back to watching Supernatural)

So here I am, to update all of my lovely reader(s) with the snippets of things that I’ve been doing.

I went shopping! At the moment, we’re using wooden TV trays instead of nightstands. TV trays don’t have drawers, so my contacts, my earrings and spectacles are all sitting out in the open to be smacked around by a particular kitten who sleeps all day and regards every waking minute that she’s not destroying personal property as time wasted. So I went shopping for some nightstands. I like the ones that have tall legs with drawers at the top better than the chunky, rectangular kind with cabinets or drawers all the way down. I found this one at Home Goods, but there was only one, and it was red.

I was really looking for one in a dark-stained wood to match the headboard that came with the bed that came with Lobsterface. I ended up ordering this one from Amazon (and using our Amazon Rewards points to pay for the whole thing! Woo!)

While I was at Home Goods/Marshall’s (they were all in one giant store), I found these loveiles on sale.

They were looking like they might be contenders in the Wedding Shoe Wars (I’ve tried three pairs so far. All duds.), and they were the only pair left in my size, so I snatched them and went dashing for the checkout line.

Alas, I tried them on with my gown, and they just don’t look right. My gown is this shimmery, very bright white tafeta, and the behind-the-lace fabric on these shoes is too warm and cream-colored to work. Drat. And they’re kind of too fancy for every-day wear, so it looks like they’re going back to the store. I’m sorry, girls. You’ll find a home soon.

Last week, my littlest sister, Molly, turned twenty-one. So this weekend Lobsterface and I went to visit her.

We ate sushi, went to a rodeo, and then ate burgers and wings. I’ll be running and not eating for weeks now.

While we were there, Molly’s landlady brought home a large box of 3-week-old kittens that someone had cruelly tossed over the side of a bank from their moving car. The poor nubbins were absolutely covered in fleas, so a group of us sat around on the porch de-fleaing the tiny kittens for an hour or so.

Kittens don’t like to be wet.
Wet Kitten

So we dried them. They didn’t really like that, either.

When they were all dry and fluffy and flealess, they had lunch.
Nom nom nom

I bonded with the one on the top left, with the white spot on her back. I was half tempted to bring her home with us, but I don’t think I’m ready to spend another $500 on a “free” kitten. Also, my established Grande Dame cat still isn’t speaking to me after I brought Pixel home.

Most of the kittens headed to a no-kill shelter nearby, but one of them found a new home with a lovely young lady who needed a roommate. So Molly and the kitten went on a road trip. She only let the kitten drive on back roads.

And in other kitten news, Pixel is recovering from surgery. She has recently been relieved of her lady equipment. I’m at a point in my life when I rather wish someone would relieve me of mine, so we’re commiserating. On the couch. With ice cream (so much for not eating).

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Lobsterface: You know, you don’t have to grill veggies for the grilled veggie pizza.

Me: Then it wouldn’t be veggie pizza.

Lobsterface: It could just be a cheese and pesto pizza!

Me: You just ate an entire bag of Funyuns. You need to eat vegetables, or you’ll die.

Lobsterface: I just ate Funyuns!

Me: Funyuns are not vegetables.

Lobsterface: Well, they were at one point…

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Me ( just back from a run, looking in mirror): “What is it about this outfit that makes weird, old men bellow out of the windows of their cars at me?”

Lobsterface (absently, sitting in front of his computer, probably blogging about werwolves): “It’s your boobs”

Me (examining my not-all-that-low-cut tank top and sports bra combo): “You can’t even see them! They’re all squished down and there’s not even any cleavage.”

Lobsterface (swiveling around and peering at me like a beetle on a pin): “Sorry, honey. You have a lot of boob.”


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