Sleeping with my wife VIII

July 22, 2011

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We return with a special Sleeping with my wife. This one is pretty spectacular. It doesn’t offer much in terms of action but the creep factor is off the charts. This past week there has been a lot of sleep activity on her part. She’s been sitting up a lot and saying a thing or two. It’s mostly been a lot of laughter and words I’ve not been able to catch.

There was the time earlier in the week where she started laughing after a lot of commotion from the bedroom. I called out “what’s going on in there?” all she did was laugh some more. She started to come into the livingroom but woke up before she did.

This of course all lead up to last night. It was hot as all get out (like the night before and the one before that) and it was hard to sleep. I got up to get some water and when I returned to the bed all I could was stare at the ceiling sweating. As I waited for sleep she moved around. Soon she sat up.

Wifey: Oh.
(She giggles.)
Me: What’s funny this time?
Wifey: Look at you.
(Laughs more and keeps laughing.)
Me: Seriously I need to find out one of these days just what is so funny.
(Laughs more.)
Wifey: Look at you…look at you…look at you.
(Laughs.)
Me: Who the hell are you talking to?
Wifey: That kid.
Me: What?
Wifey: That kid over there.
Me: Don’t show me because I don’t want to see no kid.

She laughs a bit more before she lay back down. She fell asleep as I made sure my back was to whichever way she was facing. She had no recollection of this happening this morning.


What I learned last week: 6/3-6/10

July 10, 2011

What I learned from last week

Group interviews suck:

Ok technically I already knew this. I’d been in group interviews before and they’ve always sucked. Last week I had an interview for a job at a college. I arrived all gussied up and what not. When I checked in I heard group interview and my first instinct was to run. I didn’t I sucked it up and went through with it. It was horridly painful. It ended with each of us having to get up in front and do a “commercial” about ourselves.

Katy Perry is hot.

Ok again something I already knew. I’ve never hid the fact that I have an HUGE crush on Katy Perry. The problem it seems is I also enjoy her music. I mean it’s not my favorite in the world but I dig it and she is way hot. So the wifebot bought tickets to her concert and I went.

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Katy Perry puts on a surprising good show.

She sort of won me over with her performance.
(Okay she had already won me over with her boobs, but still.)
Her show was very theatrical and pretty fun.

Star Trek the Next Generation: The Porn Parody:

Yes there is this. They do appear to have tried to have a real plot and decent attempt at graphics. Kimberly Kane (another crush of mine.) is in it, but unfortunately not really in the trailer. She plays Dr. Crusher.

I REALLY like to talk about my writing:

We all probably knew that, but this week it really stuck out. There was this strange dude at the wife’s show and he heard me say I was a playwright. He asked to talk with me and asked about my writing. I talked and answered all his questions even when it got weird. He seemed to be steering it toward trying to “collaborate” with me.

The wifebot is an amazing actress:

Again already knew this but the shows this weekend were pretty impressive. Plus look what the Sun News said: Catherine Remick (the wifebot) and Natalie Dolezal start off the festival with strong, snarky emotion absolutely crucial to the scene and some of the most capable and natural acting in the production. I got it here.

Going out to see Fireworks can be a good time:

I’ve sort of been lukewarm about going to see fireworks. I mean I enjoy it but this year I had a lot of fun.The three shillelaghs headed over to family fest (I think it was called that) presented by RTA. It was a good time. It was nice to hang out enjoying the 216 on a blanket with friends and random people.

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We’re rock stars:

Two times last week the wifebot and I were singled out for being awesome. As we left for the Katy Perry concert we were stopped by a lady. She said “you two look like you was walking right out of a magazine.” On the 4th of July as we entered the family fest (or whatever) a man stopped us to take our picture. He thought we were “such an interesting couple” and “looked made for each other.”

Finding lost friends:

Just yesterday my meebo app (lets me chat easily on my phone) signed on by itself. My sound was off and I was unaware. It’s connected to my aim (I know right?) and someone who I met thru a band’s message board immed me. I saw it like 3 hours later but luckily she was still online. We talked and it was nice. We’ve made sure to connect in other ways. It was very nice.

Movies on the couch:

It is such a simple joy putting in a movie and cuddling with the wifebot. Perfection.


TMI Thursday: Filming Movies

July 7, 2011

Boy I really hate the first post of the week to be a TMI Thursday but that’s what lazy will get you. I suppose technically this post could be about a certain concert I recently attended.

(Nope have to big a crush on Katy Perry to have her associated with posts about poop.)
(Damn I sort of just did.)
(Shut up.)

AnyTeenageDream this happened not too long ago. The wifebot and I had just finished watching Due Date and well it was time to film a movie of my own. Now some of you may know I have a tendency to refer to pooping as filming a movie and then naming them. Like:

Hunt for the Brown October
Brownaconda
Indiana Jones and the Temple of Poop

Well this time was no different and I got up.

Me: Well time to start filming Poo Date.
Wifey: There is something wrong with you.
Me: Pooping is natural!

(I run off.)*

*This part did not actually happen.

Sufficiently satisfied with the movie name (and the concern it caused) I walked off to the bathroom. I sat down on the toilet still happy with the chosen title, when it hit me.

(No not poop!)

The next one I’d use was Anne of Brown Gables. Yes! It’s perfect and would tarnish something she loves with my poop humor. Score. I was still patting myself on the back when I decided to just you know pee since I was down there already.

Only problem was the camera (see what I did there I called my peen a camera because of the whole movie thing!) was not really in position. The camera (again!) was not really pointing down—a fact I may have missed being too smug about my Anne of Brown Gables. It was mostly pointing down but really it was sort of even so the stream hit the inside of the seat and somehow a bit ricocheted up at me. It sort of sprayed just a bit up on my chest (I was wearing a shirt.) It wasn’t like I pushed harder or anything it was just a normal stream. I’m just extra manly and virile.

(That’s what that means right???)

AnyPeeOnMe I sat there in stunned silence for a minute. After taking care of all the minor filming details I went back out there and somehow kept this story to myself till now, because now n then I like some of these stories to be new to her when she reads them.

So there ya go now if you don’t mind I’m off to film How Stella Got Her Poop Back.


The one where I’m Daddy Warbucks

June 9, 2011

The following post is sort of a TMI Thursday. I mean if it was true it certainly would be TMI for you dear readers. This (if real) would be a glimpse you’d really not want. I should clarify this DID actually happen but at no point was it serious. It was one of those things I come up with to mess around with my lovely wife.

Recently I decided to undertake the mission of cataloging all of our books. We have a ton of them—one of them is ‘The Cleveland Creep’ by Les Roberts—which I will be discussing on here soon. The wife has a bunch of Anne of Green Gables books. I knew this. She also has a TON of craft books. Then I came across: The Anne of Green Gables Treasury.

Me: The Anne of Green Gables Treasury? What the blue blazes?

Her: Don’t you make fun of Anne of Green Gables!

Me: No, no of course not. (I look inside.)

Her: You better not.

Me: What the…is this a book of Anne of Green Gables themed crafts?

Her: Yes.

Me: Wow.

So I of course tweeted about it. That’s just what I do—allow you to glimpse into our marital bliss. A few minutes later I decided I’d go in the bedroom and mess around with her. As I made my way I changed my mind, and settled on a kiss on the cheek instead.

(How sweet am I?)

Just as I reached the doorway she calls out: “See! Look at the support!” That was when the previous plan switched back on. She sat on the edge of the bed and I came in and spread out on my stomach next to her. She showed me the support.

Me: One person doesn’t mean a thing.

(I rubbed her back.)

Her: No, don’t touch me you jerk!

Me: You’re a big fan of Anne of Green Gables huh? I bet I know what you’d like.

Her: Ha!

Me: Now, is that anyway way to treat me?

Her: Yes.

Me: Oh come on Anne. I’m sorry.

(Rub her back.)

Her: What?

Me: Relax. What you’re feeling is natural Anne. (Kissing her elbow and arm.) You know you like Daddy

Warbucks doing this—oh wait that is Annie isn’t it?

Her: What the hell is wrong with you???

Daddy Warbucks: What?

Her: First off sick and second off that is NOT Anne of Green Gables.

Daddy Warbucks: I know I said that. Fine who would Anne screw?

Her: What?

Daddy Warbucks: Anne who would she get it on with.

Her: Gilbert I guess but he’s her age.

Daddy Warbucks: Well that is a dumb name. I think Daddy Warbucks should be allowed—yes actually Daddy Warbucks came to Green Gables on business. He likes what he sees Anne.

(Kiss her arm again.)

Her: You are gross.

(I get up to leave.)

Daddy Warbucks: Fine I’ll take my leave for now. I will return later to see if my little Anne—wait—that make it sound like you are underage. Young Anne—there because you’d be of age—Daddy Warbucks would bide his time till you were—

Her: What the hell is the matter with you?

Daddy Warbucks: You’ve upset Daddy young Anne. I shall leave but when I return I hope you are a little more shall we say loving. You don’t want to cross the Warbucks!

Her: Get out of here you sicko!

(Warbucks exits.)

A little bit later I returned.

Me: Hey honey…

Her: What?

Me: Now is that any to talk to your Gerald? He’s come to sex you up.

Her: Who?

Gerald: Being coy isn’t always sexy Anne.

Her: You mean Gilbert.

Gerald: Who the fuck is Gilbert?

Her: The dude in Anne of Green Gables is named Gilbert.

Gerald: Gilbert? What a weirdo. That’s just as bad as Gerald. You are forbidden from ever reading or watching Anne of Green Gables ever again!

Her: …

(Gerald/Gilbert exits.)

For the rest of the evening I peppered her with sexual innuendoes involving Anne and Daddy Warbucks. She’s a lucky woman.


The one in my pants

April 21, 2011

Helloooooo out there. Last night as I sat on the couch I tried to come up with what to post about. I was already posting a review of Prison of the dead for B movie brigade.

(Cheap plug!)

But what to write for here? I could post about how after no calls for months I now have 3 job interviews next week. That seems sort of boring though. That post would be a little too hopeful and really has no meat to the story.

(You all are dumb for even suggesting it. God)
(Just kidding I love you.)

Plus that little announcement was enough concerning the job front. I realized that tomorrow (read today) would be Thursday—bingo a TMI Thursday post! It’s been a while so it’d be a nice little change of pace.
Only problem I couldn’t think of anything. I thought. I racked. I imagined. Nothing. I suppose I could fall back on Conversations with Jimi Volume 9. Yes I already have enough for a new Conversations post but that felt too soon. So stumped I turned to my beautiful wife.

Me: Been a while since my last tmi post. I do or say anything gross? TMI Thursday story worthy?
Wifebot: You do lots of gross things.
Me: Thanks.

You can see that was no help whatsoever. She went back to her computer and I went back to the Cleveland Indians game on my Television. We sat there in silence. As I did I noticed an itch. It was located in my pants. I surveyed the situation and quickly dismissed:

Me: Hey baby you wanna help me with this itch in my pants.
(No I’ll save that line for some other time.)

It looks like I’d be on my own. The itch just wouldn’t go away. It wasn’t particularly strong or bothersome but it wormed its way into my mind. Finally I gave in and slide my hand into my pants to relieve the Olsen Twins of their suffering.

I scratched (gently of course) and my fingers grazed something weird.
(Shut up)

There was something weird in my pants.
(That’s what she said!)

I pulled at it (That’s also what she said.) and there was the sound a band aid or piece of tape makes when you take them off things. What the hell? I pull it out of my pants and in my hand is:

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YEAH.

I really have no clue where it came from our how it got in there.
(TWSS!)

I held it up in the air.

Me: Hey! Look at what I just pulled out of my pants.
Wifebot: What is that?*
Me: I don’t know, it’s from some piece of clothing or something. It was like taped to my balls.
Wifebot: Nuh huh.
Me: I’m serious. I think I have my tmi post.
Wifebot: Liar.
Me: I swear on my love for you.
Wifebot: No.
Me: Why would I make that up?
Wifebot: To have a TMI post.

*The fact that she looked when I said “look what I just pulled from my pants” will mean I’m totally going to say that to her again and when she looks it’ll be my willy*

I’d like to stop the conversation here to point out that this post is 100 % true. I’m weird, gross, sick, demented, vague and obscure on here but most of this little blog o mine is honest. I put myself out there weird things taped to my balls and all.


The one where I battle emotions

April 18, 2011

You thought you were so clever.
(Yeah you.)

Oh so clever, but I caught you. I caught you red handed there intwerbz.
(No don’t even try to pretend. You just sound sad with your excuses!)

I caught you. All of youse trying to bring me down, trying to harsh my buzz if you will. Yeah you bastards. Be ashamed. Things were going okay—fun almost and then you all conspire to darken my skies. The last week or so have been rather trying.

Confession: Trying in mostly a vague not related to me way.

You see first it was the 17 year anniversary of Kurt Cobain’s death. It is a date that always leads me to pause and reflect. Kurt his writing and creativity pushed me, my ideas and writing. He was an influence to say the least. It was one that at first was personal. It was one that was more of an inside. Yes people knew

I dug Nirvana and etc, but for the most part I let the influence be deep inside my actions and writing.
Until of course what happened. When it happened I (read my always there for me Sister Lisa) dyed my hair all blonde. All of it—and there was a lot of it. The nails were painted more often. It was a time where I embraced my weirdness even more.

AnyNailPolish it hits home. So it rolls around and is a rather sad moment. I’m letting this thought roll around in my head and then bam out of nowhere one of my favorite wrestlers (especially character wise) Edge has to retire. It really sort of came from left field. I mean sure he had some serious injuries but he was on top of his chosen profession—his passion when it happened. He had followed his dreams and poured his creativity into it.

Then it was cut short. He came out to announce that he was forced to retire. It was sad. The wifebot even sat and listened to him talk. He almost broke down a few times and of course the wifey tried to get me to. I’m happy he found out when he did and can get out safely and healthy. The fact that he had to exit from something he was passionate about early is sad. When the creative are taken away too soon it hits me and when people lose their vehicle it does too.

(I know I didn’t really describe that the best way.)

So add to those things that happened later in that week: Joe Tait did the Cavs play by play for the last time. He is one of (if not the) greatest radio voices ever. He’d been doing it for seemingly forever. He’s getting up there and had some health problems so I should be happy for him.

And I am. It’s still a sad (or emotional) moment. Listening to him talk about it and his memories was fun and hard at the same time. This is something I’ll probably write about tomorrow or this week. When I first moved to Cleveland I was essentially alone here. I mean I wasn’t. The wifebot’s mom was amazing and nice—I don’t mean it like that. She was great and there for me, but the wifey was off in Athens going to OU. What would I do? Well I’d turn on the Cavs game and get lost in the words of Joe.

More on that later.

Then you come to a big event: The nuptials of my best friend the Rizza. It was a beautiful moment where two people I love came together as one. This of course led to many a moment of reflecting on my wedding day and my lovely wife and etc. I tried to write a poem for my bestie but simply could not catch perfectly what I wanted.

#PoetFail
(Yes I did use a hash tag there.)

I went back and read the poem I wrote as my vows. It was a grand ole time. The wedding (Rizza’s) was fun and she looked beautiful. It meant a lot to be able to share in such a big moment in their lives.

So yeah all of youse on the twitter and interwebz and the world I caught on to you. No I did not break down at any point. So suck on that! But I did show emotion. Go figure.

Best part of the wedding day: The several drive by kisses on my cheek by the bride as she rushed her or there. That and that as we left I hugged her she says to me:

“You’re not looking me in the eyes because you cannnnnn’t. If you did you’d get all emotional.”

Maybe. And yes she did use all those n’s.

Damn this post really sucked. Oh well I blame you all for this too.

#PostFail

Well yeah watch this.


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