BROOMBALL INTRODUCTION

This weekend I played broomball for the first time ever and I learned this: you use your inner thighs A LOT to remain standing on the ice, something I only did with varying degrees of success.

Also: thank God for hockey helmets, otherwise I might have had a black eye when meeting the parents for the first time. And I totally would have blamed it on Adam. Much like I'm blaming the bruise I got from running into the wall while chasing Guinness on Adam and that is only because he barely even looked up from his STUPID VIDEO GAME while I pissed and moaned about the stinging, my god the stinging.

Because he's a bastard. A nerdy, nerdy bastard.

FORK YOU

We were sitting side-by-side on the couch, starring aimlessly at the TV, each clutching a bowl of butter pecan ice cream, not speaking for the creamy goodness melting seductively on our tongues. Maybe it was the soft moaning of satisfaction as each succulent bite caressed our lips or the glazed over, dead look in our eyes from boring TV but something made Guinness believe that this time, this time we were going to let his filthy self (from digging with reckless abandon in Adam's flower bed) up onto the couch. This time, despite 10 previous no's to the contrary.

He leapt, grazing Adam's feeding arm and causing him to drop his fork* to the floor. Adam forcibly removed Guinness from the couch, again, then reached down, picked up the fork, AND POISED IT OVER HIS BOWL FOR ANOTHER BITE.

I quickly plucked the fork from his grasp, disgust splayed prominently across my face.

"You can't use a fork you just dropped on the floor," I sneered, walking briskly to the kitchen to discard of the offending item and fetching him a clean one.

He took the fork I offered and smirked up on me, "And why not?"

"It had fuzz on it!"

He sighed dramatically, shaking his head at me like I was some silly, naive child. "Yes, but it wouldn't have after I took a bite."

"Been a bachelor for a while, have you?"

"Shut up."


*Yes, the man really does eat ice cream with a fork. No, I don't know why. I suspect it's because he's odd.

ENDEARING WILL ONLY GET YOU SO FAR

Adam has this habit. And it's a cute habit, rather endearing, and it makes me grin every time he does it. Adam likes to comment on Guinness' choice of marking spots.

That's right. He critiques his peeing.

And because I find this habit cute and endearing, I've started to do this, too.

The general rule (I had thought) was grass or leaves are to be discouraged, while slightly more unique things, such as a poles, car tires, and rocks were prime. Apparently not.

"Good choice, Guinn. Very top notch."

"I disagree."

"You.. what? It's a ROCK! What is wrong with a rock?"

"I just think he could have done better."

"... Are you trying to be difficult?"

"Little bit."

"I will cut you."

FUN WITH TEXT MESSAGES

J to Adam: If you're actually interested in helping, we're working on the deck from 3:30 til dinner.

Adam to J: Just got your text. I was busy buying my woman knee pads*. Would have come to help.

J to Adam: Good god! Keep that shit to yourself next time!


*For the record, I bought the knee pads and they're for broomball. HOWEVER, should that fall through...

LESSONS LEARNED

This morning Guinness learned a very valuable lesson. Namely, to watch where he's going when walking. And he learned this lesson after walking face-first into my neighbor's car bumper.

He stumbled backwards, glared at the offending bumper, and barked indignantly.

And me? I couldn't breath for the laughing.

PAY-GRADE

(Ed. Note: For the record, Adam is not whipped, he's just a genuinely nice guy because you know the difference between whipped and nice? When you're whipped, you do things because you feel obligated or to stop the bitching. When you're nice, you do it just because you want to.

And we all know I never bitch.)



Dear Adam's Co-workers:

Let me start by saying I'm flattered, really I am, that you even think me capable of the caliber of whippage at which Adam currently resides. Because, can I be honest with you? Really truly honest? That sort of submission is just COMPLETELY out of my pay-grade. We're talking a lifetime of Jewish mother here (which I can't really explain seeing how Adam was raised Methodist, BUT I DIGRESS).

Now, while I wouldn't be shocked to find my sisters capable of grinding and then finely polishing their men down to that level given enough time and appropriate access to the boobage when positive reinforcement is necessary, frankly, I just don't have that kind of experience. I'm a bit ashamed to admit that I had to buy my man pre-whipped by someone else (or maybe my lovin's really are THAT good), though he is a model specimen, isn't he? I've already had him almost two months and he still has that new boyfriend smell. AND IT IS DELICIOUS.

So in closing, as much as I would like to be able to take credit for making him the fine, upstanding, accommodating boyfriend he is today, I am not to be held responsible for his actions.

At least, not just yet.

Sincerely,
SLRd

PANGS OF DISPLEASURE

Dear Adobe Illustrator Clipping Masks:



Sincerely,
The Management

Image unapologetically stolen from someone named Scandalous Candice.

QUOTES FROM THE WEEKEND*

"Hey buddy, please don't rub your wet junk on me, okay?"

* * *

"Uch, I never want to live in a village."

"Hey! I was born in a village."

"And it has since lost it's idiot."

"Touche."

* * *

C: "I was opening a checking account for this woman's daughter at the bank. She was born in 1980 and her daughter looked so old so finally I asked. She was 12! That means she was 16 when she had her! I know that shit happens but she's only a year older than me. I can't imagine having a 12-year-old."

J: "Hey! Watch it. We don't know if SLRd has a 15-year-old kid or something some where!"

Me: "Shut it, J. Adam doesn't know about it yet."

J: "Aww. You just ruined Adam's life."

* * *

"I wish someone would pay me to hang out with you."

"What?! You mean my parents aren't paying you for this? Boy, you got the shaft end of that deal."

* * *

"Talking about kids doesn't bother me. Now, if you were to say you wanted to make a baby tomorrow, that might bother me. If you were to say you wanted to practice making a kid tomorrow, I'd be okay with that."

*To be updated as I remember them.

RED GERBER DAISIES

I drove down to Montgomery to pick him up when his car broke.

He bought me flowers.

I think it was a pretty fair trade-off.

EARNING AT LEAST ONE OF HIS NICKNAMES

"So Adam is for sure coming home with me for Fourth of July weekend. I mentioned sleeping arrangements and he said if they were going to be an issue he could just stay at his parents."

"But you don't want him to do that, do you?"

"No."

"Well, we trust you. Besides, you're 25 years old. It isn't like your first time is going to be at our house... which could be taken one of two ways."

"Hehe. I promise you that our first time will not be at your house."

"Right."

"Besides, it isn't like anything could happen anyway. Guinness will be in the room."

"Of all the things you could have told me about abstinence and waiting until you were married that is the excuse I believe most."

"I know! Adam kisses me and Guin is all up in our faces like, 'Whatcha doin'? Huh huh? I bite your hand now, k?'"

"I pay that dog handsomely for that little trick."

"You're certainly getting your damn money's worth."

A LITTLE MORE THAN ANNOYED

Today, for no good reason other than, oh! I'm PART-TIME, I decided to go into work at 9 rather than 8.

You would have thought the world ended.

As I made my way up the steps to my cube of hatred and death, I passed one of the HR ladies, one who I know quite well.

She glanced at her watch.

"You aren't just getting in, are you?"

"I am," I say through a forced smile and gritted teeth.

She makes the face she ALWAYS MAKES when she thinks she needs to act like my mother. "Well," she says, her tone one of exasperation. "Better late then never, I guess."

I bristle but continue up the steps but not before calling back, "You people seem to forget that I'm part-time."

BECAUSE SERIOUSLY! I am! Part-time! As in NOT full-time! No benefits, no vacation, no sick leave, no holiday pay. It isn't like it costs you money if I walk in a little late AND HOW DO YOU KNOW I DIDN'T HAVE A DOCTOR'S APPOINTMENT? Or something wrong with Guinness? Shit, I thought we were past this little judgmental streak you've ALWAYS had, but have since seemed to let slide because, why? Did you finally get used to me? My sense of humor? For f*cks sake, I'm practically getting ass raped by you people. CUT ME A LITTLE SLACK. And maybe, just MAYBE, if you people chose to work on improving morale rather than asking us part-timers to bend the hell over and take it another time, I WOULD WANT TO BE THERE AT ALL.


(And then, to top it off, the designer at the magazine I really like working with got a new job and it took EVERY FIBER OF MY BEING to NOT ask about it when I was on the phone with her at work, but I'm looking that shit up tonight.)

I HATE THE SUBURBS

Tonight, as I was coming home from walking Guin, some guy who I was rude enough to make wait 10 whole seconds (TOPS!) while I crossed in a crosswalk WITH THE LIGHT, called me a fat ass.*

Must have been the same guy who dented my car at Wal-mart by letting a cart roll into it.

I repeat, I f*cking HATE the suburbs.


* To be honest, I'm actually must less upset about it than I was about the cart into the car, because MY CAR, YOU BASTARD! And besides, everyone who is anyone knows I am one smoking hot piece of ass.

Also modest. Let us not forget modest.

BROOMBALL

In case you didn't make it to the end of that long ass Adam post, he went to Miami University (and graduated in 2003. Or was it 2002? Damnit! I don't remember. EITHER WAY, HE IS OLD.) And, according to Adam, who may or may not be a reliable source, a popular sport to play at MU is broomball.

That's right. Those crazy Oxford snobs like to run around ON ICE and whack at an orange rubber ball.

And sometimes, they fall.

And other times, they tumble over one another.

And then some other times, if they are as dainty and graceful as Adam, they crash ass-first into the boards.

And after they crash ass-first into the boards, if they're really lucky and have an uber nice girlfriend like Adam does, the choking, snorting sound of her laughter can be heard echoing off the glass.

A FORMAL INTRODUCTION

Dear the Interwebs:


This is Adam.

I realize this picture is blurry and hard to see but I had to steal it off of Facebook because I got distracted Wednesday night, what with the naked, manly chest and all, and forgot to take another one.

You'll forgive me, I'm sure.

Now, I must admit that this little questionnaire took on a slightly different turn than I was expecting because... well.. I don't know if you've noticed, but I tend to be sarcastic and maybe even a little snarky on this here blog thing and my questions were certainly flavored in similar undertones.

His responses however, not so much. They ended up being far more cute and aww-y and, to be perfectly honest, a little bit barfy for anyone who may continue reading (which, of course means I totally melted and now want to have his babies. No, really. Ovaries are DEMANDING to be taken seriously here.)

All I'm saying is you've been warned.

And now to commence with what you've all been coming here MULTIPLE TIMES A DAY for. Enjoy.

My Questions: (Now with commentary!)

What are your Intentions with me?

When I think ‘intentions’, I think ulterior motives and pre-defined limitations of a relationship. I don’t have either of these. I want us to be ourselves and see where it takes us.

So you don't want to get in my pants? That's a little disappointing. (HI DAD!!)

What are you looking for in the opposite sex?

I looking for a woman that is happy being herself and isn’t pre-occupied with ‘Normal’. Someone with a sense of humor in line with my own. And of course, someone I’m physically attracted to.

Hey! No one has EVER accused me of being "normal."

What’s the most annoying thing that I do?

Making a reasonable request at inopportune times.

Followed closely by asking loaded questions.

So, what are you wearing?

Gym shorts… It’s hot.

I concur, though I took it a step further and just didn't wear pants. My neighbors LOVE ME.

What’s the most common phrase you hear come out of my mouth?

I think you know, and it corresponds with your most annoying thing.

Heh. You really should just obey.

Can I customize you to my exact specification?

I’m clay in the hands of a master artist.

Aww, he called me "Master." Boy's learning quick.

Do you respond better to positive or negative reinforcement?

I’m sensing a theme… I would say I respond equally to both.

I have NO IDEA what you're talking about.

What would you think if I told you my dad asked if you’d made it to second base yet?

That he was sorry he asked.

Oh, he was.

Wanna make out later?

Absolutely.

Damn right you do.

Am I really as awesome to date as everyone thinks/says?

I a little curious how everyone knows how awesome you are to date, but I’m definitely going to argue.

I get around.

Why do you think that I’m allergic to you?

It was just a hypothesis I was working on early on, you kept sneezing and coughing whenever I was close. You don’t seem to displaying the symptoms any longer but you could’ve built up immunity…

Aw, see I was beginning to agree with you.

What all you determined I’m using you for?

First off, you said it first. But here’s the list so far: my backyard, laundry, I make an excellent Guin chew toy, and I think there was something else…

See, this is where, if you were smart, you'd say things like, "Of course you can come over and use my washing machine. That just gives me a chance to spend more time with you. Hey, while you're at it and if it isn't too much to ask, could you throw some of my work shirts/jeans/underwear in with yours?" But see, now you've missed your chance because I'M ON TO YOU!

What are you going to be wearing in 10 minutes?

You’re right. These would’ve been more fun if I was answering this while you were here, too.

That's because I am ALWAYS right.

Do you like Guinness?

Of course!

You're the only one...

Your Questions: (followed by EVEN MORE commentary!!)

What do you do for a living?

I’m a computer programmer at a company called ((CENSORED, you know, just in case)) in Cincinnati. We make/import bath & window décor and sell it to all of the major retailers. I write software that support all the phases of business.

Oh my god, I want you.

Do you have any siblings?

Yes, 2 brothers and a sister. I am the oldest, then my sister who just graduated law school, then my brother who graduated from college a year ago and my final bro just finished his junior year in college.

I have yet to meet them so no comment yet.

Do you truly understand the sister dynamic? And to stay out of the line of fire?

I’ve been warned but in the line of fire is more fun than on the side lines, most of the time.

Ohh! Ohh, sweetie, no. I'll admit it's fun to watch and your best course of action would be to grab a beer and pull up a chair (while still ensuring room for a hasty retreat), but I would recommend you NEVER step into the line of fire. We can make grown men cry. I've seen us do it.

Do you like spicy food?

Yep.

He tastes like jalapeños.

Could you hold your own when drinking with Trini?

I’ve been told I wouldn’t stand a chance, and I’d have to agree.

Can anyone?

What's your Cornhole (the GAME PEOPLE!!) handicap?

I’m not sure how to calculate my handicap but I win more than I lose.

I'll show you cornhole.

The way I see it, there are 2 kinds of people: those who like Animaniacs and those who don't. So, which are you?

I like the Animaniacs, I haven’t seen it for a long time but I have multiple songs on my pc.

And he's zany to the max!

Who is your favorite Muppet?

When I was a young’n I would’ve said Animal but I’ve got some Swedish Chef clips on my pc.

It's a lie. He totally digs Miss Piggy.

If you could pick any nickname for yourself, what would it be and why?

Trabek, because I’ve been handing out so many answers to questions.

Favorite SNL sketch EVER.

If you could provide me with transportation, what would it be?

I have a Mazda, but I’m thinking of getting a Vespa… KIDDING

Son, please. You're going to be riding bitch on the back of my V*Star.

What is your nickname for me?

I don’t have one yet.

I would respond to "woman" but only if it were used in the form of a question. (ie - "Woman, where's my sammich?!")

Angelina or Jen?

They’re both crazy, but if I had to choose, Angelina.

The man has a thing for sexy lips.

Do you cook? Better yet, do you cook well?

I don’t actively cook for myself. I have in the past but I don’t take the time anymore. I can definitely follow a recipe.

Feed me?

Where did you go to school?

Miami University

This makes him better than you.

What did you major in?

System Analysis (Computer Science)

Be still my beating heart.

What was you GPA?

I’m not entirely sure, between 2.6 and 2.8 I think, but closer to 3.5 within my major.

HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW?! My entire self-worth REVOLVED around my GPA. I realize now I had issues and I'll appreciate you shutting it.

What is you best quality?

I think Shannon would be better to answer this but I’ll say I’m very easy going and rational.

His butt. HANDS DOWN.

What is you favorite thing about me?

I love to make her laugh.

D'aww. How cute is that?! Also, he's lying. It's my smokin' rack.

SURPRISE BONUS QUESTION!!!

What do I owe you for doing this?

I take all forms of currency.

Why are you always grinning when you say that?

THE END.

WHILE WE WAIT (PATIENTLY) FOR OUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED PROGRAMMING..

... I thought I might embarrass someone else for a little while and share with you a conversation I had with the Distraction this morning.

And scene:

"No, you'll give him a key at some point so he can 'help you' by letting Guinness out and, if he's smart AT ALL, he'll use that key to break into your apartment and have a nice candle-lit dinner and some flowers waiting for you when you get home."

"Sounds like you're talking from experience?"

"Hell, yeah. I did that for Ex-girlfriend. I parked around the block so she didn't know I was there and put flowers in front of her garage door so she had to bend down to pick them up. Then she walked into the front door and I was there waiting with dinner set out and candles lit. It was perfect."

"Did you get laid that night?"

"That night?! I got laid that instant. Let me tell you, skirts are the way to go."

AND I LIKED IT

"I just downloaded a new song, 'I Kissed a Girl.' It's sung by a girl. It makes me giggle."

"Yeah, I've heard of that one, too."

"You know, I've kissed a girl before. New Years Eve for example."

"There's a difference between kissing a girl and kissing a girl. I mean, I've kissed a guy."

"Experimenting, were we?"

"No. We were playing a drinking game. There were rules. We lost."

"I'm pretty sure that is about the best way to tell a story EVER. Short, sweet, to the point, and hilarious."

SEND ME YOUR QUESTIONS

In the last few days, it's become rather evident that I'm going to be keeping #9 around for some time and, having seen Nick's introduction to Sarah Cool's blog, I thought it might be fun to blatantly steal her idea and do the same for my new guy (despite the fact that he has yet to meet the fam-damn-ly.)

Last night I sat down all prepared to create the list to end all lists, filled to the brim with teasing and embarrassing questions designed purely to test the poor man's mettle. The onslaught (or barrage if you will) was to be glorious and maybe even a little bit painful (because that is how I roll). Only... I can't really think of what to ask him. Oh, don't get me wrong. I have thought up a few zingers that might soon send him scurrying under the table to hide and sob and rock and ask himself why? oh god, why?, but the glory that was to be is not so much glorious as it is pitiful.

Therefore, I am again turning to you, dear interwebs. What do you want to know about the yet-to-be-renamed-#9? NO QUESTION WILL GO UNANSWERED!! NOTHING IS TOO TABOO!! All shall be answered (maybe not satisfactorily, because, come on. My dad reads this here blog thing, but ANSWERED THEY SHALL BE NONETHELESS!)

So come one and come all. If you read my blog with any amount of regularity, you are REQUIRED to post a question. Any question. Pretty please? And if you don't, I shall be muy sad. So play along DAMNIT!

Do it now!

OPEN MOUTH, INSERT FOOT

"I don't really have a favorite sports team. I usually tend to root against the team everyone else likes and boy, have I gotten screamed at. Like when I rooted for John Cena. Not because I wanted him to win, but because he was my number and there was money on the line. 'Your future children will have hooves for this.'"

"Yeah, I remember you telling me about that. Good thing to know about my future children."

"..."

"I MEAN, should I ever NEED to know about that. In the future. Umm..."

"Ahahahahaha!"

"Damnit."

* * *

"So I have bad knees, bad ankles, bad wrists, bad fingers..."

"So how are you expecting to be able to make me... um..."

"Make you what?"

"Nothing! Nevermind! It's inappropriate."

"Hasn't stopped you before."