Yes, Internet, You Have An Unhealthy Obsession With My Breasts.
1. Do you want Kam to be your baby daddy?
Assuming that Heath Ledger, Jakob Dylan and Brad Pitt are all unavailable for Baby Daddyhood in the near future, the answer would have to be yes. However, there are several reasons why the prospect of Kam fathering my child(ren) alarms me. Let me share them with you now.
a) The only comestible items that ever grace the threshold of Kam's fridge are Papa John's pizza, a six pack of MGD, and the occasional Uncle Ben's Rice Bowl. I'm not certain, but I have the feeling that an infant might find it difficult to gum down a dried shriveled slice of barbecue chicken pizza that's been in the fridge longer than said infant has been alive.
b) Kam will surely teach our child(ren) to imitate Corky from Life Goes On in the most inappropriate of public situations (As if there are any public situations in which imitating Corky from Life Goes On IS appropriate? Okay, maybe when placing an order at the Starbuck's drive thru but that's about it.)
c) Our child(ren) will master the artful skill of playing Madden on X-Box before they learn to read, write or wipe their own asses.
d) Kam will insist that our child(ren) be decked out in Texans, Astros and Rockets gear 24/7, which I'm not sure I can handle considering how badly all of these teams suck. Call me a snob, but I just don't want my kids to be under the mistaken impression that it's okay to be a loser.
2. If you could change professions----would you? Or do you particularly love spelunking for poo?
Realistically speaking, no I would probably not want to change professions. If the alternative to spelunking for poo is having some lame ass boring 9-5 desk job, I'll take poo. However if we're speaking fantasy jobs, I'd give up spelunking in a heartbeat to be a writer for SNL or a professional Horse Whisperer.
3. Do you find it ironic that you drive a Mini, but your boobs are.....well....not so mini?
No. They make fantastic airbags and, in a pinch, can easily double as flotation devices.
4. Would you risk taking your own life or that of a fellow jogger if you went running sans sports bra?
First of all, let's get something straight. Spoonleg doesn't "go running". Ever. You couldn't coerce me to run across my own living room if you dangled a dozen chocolate covered Krispy Kreme donuts in front of my face. You couldn't get me to run from my car to the sidewalk if a flaming meteor the size of Kentucky was careening towards me at the speed of light. What's that you say? There's a small child and his puppy sinking into a deadly pit of quicksand at an alarmingly fast rate? Let me take my time WALKING over there to see about them. It's really for the safety of everyone involved that I DON'T run. If you witnessed the carnage that would ensue as a result of my running and somehow lived through the experience, you'd probably gouge your own eyes out just to erase the heinous image that had scorched itself onto your retinas. That being said, it's also a hazard to the American public for someone like me to do ANYTHING, let alone RUN, without a bra on. I learned that lesson the hard way; now the local pizza place won't deliver to my house anymore.
5. When your mom gets drunk, does she tell you repeatedly that she loves you?
No, my mom is a mean and violent drunk. Remind me one day to tell the story of how she gave my little brother, her only son, a fat bloody lip one Thanksgiving. When she's drunk, my mom likes to reminisce on what horrid, disrespectful, and ungrateful heathens she's raised. Then she likes to talk about herself and what a stellar mother she's been and dear Lord what has she done to deserve this? My dad is the one who gets sentimental and lovey-dovey when he's drunk. I have saved countless voice messages from my father left at 2 am after a night imbibing Wild Turkey and vodka martinis in which he tells me how much he loves me and how proud he is of me. Throw in a few shots of tequila and I can even get him to admit that I'm his favorite child. He's also good for at least $20 bucks when he's sloshed. It's times like these when my siblings and I milk our dad for all he's worth. "We love you too, dad. Can we go on a cruise next summer?"
6. What's the most embarrassing thing you own?
The complete Veggietales home video collection, not to mention countless other Veggietales memorabilia. I can't help it, I love my lips! USTA!
1. Have you ever gagged while spelunking for poo?
No. I've said it before and I'll say it again, the only sight/smell that sufficiently grossed me out to the point of dry heaving and left me sobbing in a corner, whimpering and sucking my thumb, was witnessing a vaginal birth. All you single and/or childless ladies out there had better get your noseplugs ready, because you have NO IDEA what you're in store for. This is Real Life, they don't show this stuff on fucking TLC. POO IS LIKE A FRAGRANT BUNCH OF LILIES COMPARED TO WHAT COMES OUT OF YOUR PREGNANT BODY AFTER ITS SPENT NINE LONG MONTHS ROTTING AND DECOMPOSING INSIDE OF YOU. It's a mystery to me how babies can smell so good after spending so much time cooped up with that rank ass shit.
2. What was the first CD or tape that you bought yourself?
The first tape I ever bought myself was Michael Jackson's Thriller. Dost thou doubt my devotion to MJ? I think my first CD was Rod Stewart, but I didn't buy it for myself, that one was courtesy of Grandpa Don. You can't mess with the Maggie May.
3. What is your least favorite household chore and why?
Okay, Megan, I thought we were friends. You should know by now that I DO NOT clean. I hate it. I would rather systematically slice off my own fingers and toes than clean. If you could see what my apartment looks like right now, you'd vomit all over yourself. But if I had to PICK a chore that I hate most, it would have to be dusting and vacuuming. As a kid I was forced to do these things and I HATED it. I'd rather scrub a scummy, shit-crusted toilet with my brother's toothbrush than dust a bunch of stupid knick knacks.
4. If you weren't a nurse, what would you be?
Your mama. (Seriously, she's pretty cool.)
5. Are you good at crafty things? What do you make that you're proud to show off? (And no, whoopie doesn't count.)
I'm good at some crafty things, but I get bored easily and give up on anything too challenging or time consuming. I once made an entire quilt with the assistance of an ex-boyfriend's mom, and I show that thing off like it's my first born child. I have recently taken up scrapbooking, but I wouldn't consider myself very good at it just yet. I love making homemade gifts, as lame and cheesy as they sometimes turn out. I am also a badass at coloring and can stay within the lines like a fucking pro. Like WOAH.
I don't feel like making up a bunch of questions with which to annoy my fellow bloggers, so I'm just going to tag my boyfriend. That's the way uh huh uh huh he likes it.
1. Do you want to be my baby daddy? Who else besides Natalie "I-went-to-the-same-acting-school-as-Jennifer-Love-Hewitt" Portman would you like to be your baby mama?
2. Why do you insist on making up your own annoying lyrics to that Sixpence None The Richer song from the Ortho Tricyclen commercials? Please share them with the Internet so that they might be equally as annoyed as I.
3. Did your college girlfriend really have DD-sized breasts? Do you have pictures to prove it?
4. How is it that some days you insist on taking 45 minute showers and on others you are perfectly content to take a "sink shower"? And what the hell IS a sink shower, anyway?
5. Your Uncle Peter is a creepy pervert. Can you please tell him to stop staring at my flotation devices?
Don't dress your kids in sports gear 24/7. My niece has the cutest little Miami Dolphins cheerleader outfit. She calls it "the thing that I hate."
And I'm a bad person, because I laughed out loud when you said that Kam would teach your kid to impersonate Corky from Life Goes On. That is just so wrong.
now email me your address and t-shirt size so I can get the damn MJ shirt out to you :)
oh and my kitty had to get put to sleep. me very sad.
Also, I TRIED to email you about the MJ t-shirt thing, but after scouring your blog for an email addy and finding none, I lost all hope. Spanks!
Rina, did you seriously just change your screen name to jomama? I am laughing my ass off over here.
Closet, your niece has the right idea. I would have killed my parents if they ever did that to me.
That is the funniest thing I've heard since the doctor told me I have inoperable dumbassedness.
I think your sister was right... he's GOT to be Jamaican.... only those crazy island folk would dare to mix those two together!
yeah. mon!!!! I love you, too!!!
IT'S PICKED A PECK OF PICKLED PEPPERS SO GET OFF MY ASS BECAUSE PECK SOUNDS BETTER. YOU AREN'T OLD. SO THERE.
You give me ideas about my potential upcoming rebirth on the WWW. It should be quite stinky, non?
(I think I might have a crush on you!)
Spoonie-licious one, you need to get that job at SNL. You damn funny gurl!
Just make sure to toss out the Xbox before the birth.
Kristine and Shaun did the new masthead for me (THANKS YOU SEXY BITCHES!) and I like it! That's not my body, fyi... just my head with a lot of photoshop magic!
Anyway, there I have given you my heartfelt most sincere apology not only to you and your family but to you oh so kind but thin skinned good buddy. I shall await you kind words in reply.....ED
Spoon - love the new look. Kristine works wonders, she fixed mine up to.
Kam - wanna go make out?
P.S. This is your shared alum's wife - does that make sense?
To answer your questions, no I most certainly DO NOT know Ed and yes, his "posterity" kinda creeps me out a tad.