Bucket List

But not like the movie. I have only seen it once, and it was a really long time ago, but I’m pretty sure it was sad.

These are just things I want to do before someone is sticking beer cans on my headstone. (Do they do that wherever you are? Is it just an Iowa thing?)

1. Hug a dolphin. I want to do more than just see one, but I don’t need to swim or dance with it or anything like that. Just a hug will suffice.

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2.

Update: I have had this draft hanging around unpublished for a while, and it turns out my only real life goal is to hug a dolphin.

Buzzfeed Fail or Kimberly Fail?

I finally found the answer to why I don’t have girl friends in a list called 15 Reasons Best Friends Are Better Than Boyfriends.

1. You can get manicures with your BFF. What if my BFF is a male that is uncomfortable paying to have fingernails glued to his fingernails? Oh, my BFF is female? I’ll keep that in mind.

2. You can lay and play with each other’s hair. I don’t even want to touch my own hair. I’d be OK with this cat being my best friend, though. Oh, sorry—my “BFF”.

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*Jared: they noted boyfriends don’t know how to braid hair. Do you know how to braid hair?

3. You can take field trips to the bathroom with your BFFs. I prefer not to have an audience. Oh, it’s to take selfies?! Congratulations, I didn’t think I could be less interested.

4. You can show off one million outfits in the dressing room together without any complaints. Wait, who’s not complaining? A million is a lot of outfits. I have like…4.

5. You can vent to your BFF about how being with your boyfriend is like taking care of a small child. I vent to my boyfriend about how being with my boyfriend is like taking care of a small child.

6. You can share pictures of dream wedding dresses with your BFF. *Boyfriends might assume you’re pushing the issue. I’m with the boyfriends on this one. Isn’t that what Pinterest is for? Not to mention you’ll only be disappointed when your dream dress is $10,000. Don’t you ever watch Say Yes to the Dress?

7. You can rely on your BFF having an extra tampon in her purse. Date a Boy Scout. They’re always prepared.

8. You can make choreographed dances with your BFF. I don’t dance.

9. You can dance into the morning light with your BFF, and they won’t get tired. Why doesn’t my BFF get tired? Did I mention I don’t dance?

10. You can feel less shame when your BFF sees you barf after a drunk night. I’m not convinced.

enhanced-3297-1395693541-1Oh, you added a photo of a girl passed out. Who took that picture? The anti-shaming BFF? Interesting.

11. You can always count on your BFF to pose for selfies with you, whenever, wherever. It’s not a question of whether they’ll pose with me. It’s whether they’ll choose to delete that photo they look perfect in, because I have six double chins and a zit the size of Cali that no filter is going to mask.

12. You can watch Downton Abbey on Sundays with your BFF. I assume they mean Downtown. They clearly haven’t discovered the compromise that is food for football.

13. You can give your BFF a spare set of keys to your apartment without it being a big deal. If I give my BFF my spare set of keys, what I am going to do when I inevitably lose mine, and they’re being all drama-I-hate-you-but-only-for-this-week-because-you-looked-at-me-wrong? Starve?

14. You can catch the bouquet at your BFF’s wedding. I don’t have to catch the bouquet at my BFF’s wedding, because I’ll be getting married to my inferior boyfriend. But cheer up—you have your BFFs and flowers!

15. No matter what, you can always depend on your BFF to be there for you. Until they find a boyfriend.

It’s Still Only Tuesday

Knowing all Google search terms will be encrypted at some point is disappointing, so I’m going to take full advantage of knowing how some people find my posts. Such as:

tuesday cat “it’s only tuesday?”

It’s a little weird how spot on that is to my Tuesday cat gif post, so I did some research (aka Googled Tuesday cat).

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Why do all felines have bad spelling but understand apostrophes?

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And why do all cats talk with ‘z’s?

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Comic Sans? Still? Not even his new classy brother, Comic Neue?

Seriously, though. Despite all my negative comments, I might have to make Tuesday Cat a regular thing.

It’s cats…on Tuesday. Brilliant.

Relationship Priorities

Jared, what would you do if you had to choose between getting rid of all of your guitars and staying with me, or keeping your guitars but not me?

*without skipping a beat* Guitars. I’m not saying it would be easy, but I could play the pain away.

My I’m-not-surprised-but-still-got-tossed-to-the-side-for-guitars face

What would you choose. Never having animals again, or me?

Touché, homeskillet.

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No Going In There At All Ever Zone

I specifically remember telling my two followers I would be back with any benefits that may arise out of Jared’s inability refusal to do dishes in a timely manner.

Here I am.

Over the past week or so, there has been a…smell…slowly taking over our kitchen. Nothing new.  It started with the ever so common “Jared, did you fart?”

No?

No?

Jared doesn’t turn down an opportunity to claim smells, so the logical next question was “You’re drinking beer…did you burp? Something stinks.”

I don’t know. Probably?

End of conversation.

A (singular, uno, one) day goes by, and our kitchen is unenterable (I am intentionally ignoring the red squiggly line suggesting the previous is not a word). Jared, who has a perpetually stuffy nose, would rather bring me things that I refuse to endure the stench of the kitchen to get on my own, than do the dishes.

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Then next morning, it has taken over our entire apartment. The chinchilla room is the most bearable (said no one ever until yesterday). I refused to leave that room until the dishes, and hopefully that stank, were gone.

Benefit to this ordeal:

If you spend a long enough time with chinchillas during the day, you get to see them sleep. In my experience, chinchillas sleeping DOES NOT HAPPEN. Document that crap.IMG_4999

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Home, Let Me Come Home

Going home always reminds me of why I started this blog in the first place.

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Meet Whiskey (Whiskers) and Katie (Miss Kay, Taters)

 

I burnt my cupvust. Doggone it. I hate when that happens. -Dad

Me too, dad. Me too.

(I was going to add a handy-dandy link to what cupvust is, but apparently the internet doesn’t know. Don’t Google it, or the above quote will get really weird, fast. On that note—don’t Google niceties, either. You know, in case you were about to.)

I hate my phone. It don’t think the same way as me. -Dad

Phones based on personalities…genius.

It would be hard to have a horse in a movie. You couldn’t tell it what to do…you wouldn’t have to pay it, though. -Julie

Always with the practicality.