I woke up in my bed last Saturday morning, shivering and wondering why my lips felt like a tempurpedic neck pillow, wearing a short black dress and one high heel. I had been dreaming about a life as a Russian acrobat, which I knew without even checking meant I had fallen asleep wearing a thong.
I limped unevenly to the bathroom, 5'7" on one side and 5'3" on the other.
High heel, bare foot...
Click, plop... click, plop... click, plop...
tall, short... svelte, dwarf... queen of the world, troll doll...
I pulled Hoodie and pj bottoms out of my pile of laundry limbo, redressed, and sat on the toilet in my thinking position--pajama pants down around ankles, chest on thighs, arms dangling, face in panties like a little head hammock. So comfy.
I remembered a marachino cherry.
There was another cherry, later. An orange slice too.
Sugar on the rim.
Lime wedge in the bottle. Like in Mexico. Damn, that gets me every time. I love Mexico.
I will drink anything if it has a cherry or some kind of fruit or accessory in/hanging off the glass. You know those plastic monkeys that hang by their tails off the rim? Done. You could fill a martini glass up with phlegm and kitty litter and hang a monkey off the glass and maybe an umbrella, and I'd be all, "Holy crap is this a party or what? This drink sure tastes like vacation!"
I remembered my drink order at dinner: "I want that foamy drink with the round thing bobbing around in it. I want to say frankenberry, but that's not right. Dingleberry? Help me out. Floaty thing."
(If you're interested, it was a CRANberry.
*smug Trebek pause*
CRAN. berry.
*taps answer cards*)
I love festivities. I'm like a 15-year old boy who ejaculates in his jeans before his girlfriend has even begun to fiddle with his zipper. I'm like him, only with fun. Or even the suggestion of fun. Those floating cranberries and plastic monkeys dry hump my brain until I ejaculate seratonin in my metaphorical jeans. Yeah, I just wrote that.
My funjaculation condition doesn't apply to just drinks though. I'm not a big drinker. Now I realize I can't keep posting about drunk bachelorette trips and lessons in how to be photographed drunk and continue to be all "Heavens above, I can't even remember the last time I consumed liquah, I wouldn't even know what to order." *coy eyes over Southern belle fan*
I sound like a hypocrite, but I'm not. I'm not a big drinker, but I'm a master celebrator, is what I am. A master 'brator. Okay, yes, I forced that. It's embarrassing. Let's move on.
It's not just the drinks. It's carnivals (Oh my God, get off the highway NOW, I see a ferris wheel I WANT A CHURRO GOGOGO!!) or elaborately decorated cakes (I want the piece with the Superman, but I also want a rose and a balloon and a corner piece, so maybe Gerrymander it around a bit when you're cutting, m'kay? I don't care if my piece looks like Tajikistan, just make it happen) or any Journey song (*air punch, air punch, air punch, scary rock n' roll face*) or Jai Ho (*delicate Bollywood turny wrists, serious multicultural face*) I just get too excited sometimes.
Yesterday I went over to visit my Nana at my mom's house, dressed in my workout clothes because really I was there to use the treadmill, not to visit Nana, but I like to pretend I'm just killing time on the treadmill until Nana wakes up, but Nana never wakes up. If she were a goldfish she'd be the kind who's been resting on the rocks at the bottom of the tank with the same delicate tendril of poop hanging from her ass for so long that you decide to flush her and all of a sudden just as you've said your goodbyes to your Nanafish laying there in the net scooper, she opens one eye and you're like WAIWAIWAIT SHE'S ALIVE and everyone feels super bad for almost flushing Nana and you never talk about it again. Man, I am KILLING with the metaphors today.
Frankly, I wouldn't know what to say to her if she did ever wake up. Maybe I could talk about our common interests, like breathing:
Me: Breathe any good air lately?
Nana: *breathe*
Me: Oh, dang girl, save some for me!
Nana: *wink* *breathe* *sleep*
Me: You crazy, Nana.
So anyway, I showed up in my workout gear at around noon and discovered a half-empty frozen margarita machine sitting in the patio from a party the night before, promptly funjaculated, removed my sports bra and running shoes and began to gather beautiful flowers with which to decorate my drink.
And you know the saying, "Where there's a half-empty margarita machine, there's leftover fish tacos," right? So true.
And you know the saying, "I'd rather drink alone for the right reasons then drink with other people for the wrong ones?" Also true. It was hard, but I think I did the right thing.
And you know the saying, "It's better to have had a few drinks by yourself on a lovely spring day and then taken a ride on Nana's motorized stair-seat and broken the motor from over-enthusiastic make-believe gangsta hydraulics than it is to have never taken a ride on Nana's motorized stair seat at all?" No? Well, write it down. Words to live by.
77 comments:
I'd like to say "Words to live by", but really the best words to live by are "Free Ice Cream Stand / Whorehouse". You can NEVER find an open apartment near THAT.
The best thing about Fish tacos is [vagina joke].
So, wait, your Mom had a margarita fish taco party and didn't invite you? You had sloppy seconds drunktivities?
Wow, you really do love to party.
I didn't realize it was even possible to have leftover fish tacos, mainly because fish tacos are gross so why would anyone make them in the first place?
Also? I'm going to have a margarita immediately after work now.
There are times very occasionally where I'm rightly lost for words. And this is FOR SURE one of them. However, that motorized chair thing? If you didn't do it, I would be eternally disappointed in you.
Crap, thanks for making me laugh so hard I started sneezing again. I'm sick damn it, stop making me do the guffaw and yes, making me funjaculate.
So, if you don't create the funjaculatini immediately, I'm never reading your blog again.
Not true.
But I want the recipe.
Also, that shit about Nana?
Not cool.
Just kidding.
I once wrote about my grandmother's flatulence that she pretended no one could hear. And she was awesome.
Funjaculate is very possibly the best word I have heard in a long time.
You should use it as much as possible.
Funjaculate? You're American. How dare you take my native English language and improve it!
Drinking alone is strangely addictive.
There's a difference between experiencing loneliness and enjoying the splendour of solitude.
Either way, they are both improved by getting pissed as a newt.
I've read this in bed, first thing in the morning. It WAS a bright new day, unsullied, full of promise. Now my head's so fill of bizarre images that I can't lift it off the pillow. The Nanafish is going to be a hard one to shake.
No, come to think of it, it's the panty hammock that's going to stick. Thanks for that - every time I go to the loo now I'll see them and remember.
"You could fill a martini glass up with phlegm and kitty litter and hang a monkey off the glass and maybe an umbrella, and I'd be all, "Holy crap is this a party or what? This drink sure tastes like vacation!"
Isn't that pretty much the plot of the new "Sex and the City" movie? I hope they're paying you.
Have you had flames airbrushed on to Nana's stair chair and/or walker? If not, I highly recommend it. We did it to my Grammie's walker, and she was all the rage in the rest home. Go on, do it while she's sleeping.
Do you ever forget that you have a thong on, 'cause your husband just bunched it off to the side when you were having drunken sex the night before, instead of taking it off, and when you wake up you really have to pee and then you go to the bathroom and and sit on the toilet and then proceed to pee all over your thong? Me neither.
When there are especially long blog posts that I read all of, I try to zero in on one or two things and make funny comments about them. But that was so chock-full of spaz randomness that I don't know where to begin.
I was thinking about getting a motorized stair-seat just in case my ancient neighbors Jack & Betty stopped by, but now you've ruined it for me with all that talk of gangsta hydraulics. No funjaculate for me:(
That zipper story was supposed to be a secret!
I'm never sharing with you again!
*pouty face*
Yeah. I never drink either.
Where to begin, where to begin.
I can't decide which is my favorite part. The description of walking with one high-heel on (a condition that was never truly explained in the body of the post) or the phrase "ejaculate seratonin into my metaphysical pants", which might just be my new "words to live by", despite what the ending says.
And the new verb, "funjaculate"? Brilliant.
But I think perhaps my favorite part--truly--was the use of the word "gerrymander" as it applies to the cake, because I, too, want some of that extra thick frosting along the edges--doubled on the corner--a rose, one piece of letter, and some of Batman. So, you've spoken directly to me and my need to get all the best, artery-hardening pieces of the cake in one slab. To hell with the critics if they don't like my piece of cake that is the shape AND size of a former soviet republic.
I'm big fan of your beckabulary.
Funjaculation. I love it!
I love the opening of this post... such hilarious and vivid writing.
"dry hump my brain until I ejaculate seratonin in my metaphorical jeans" = excellent, especially for us nerdy scientific types. Just plain excellent.
i feel confused, and scared, and like i need to be held. and like i need a nanafish.
I prefer if someone just scrapes all the icing off the cake and piles it on my plate. I always look out for the weirdo who "doesn't like frosting" and take theirs.
I think that you should do a realistic re-enactment of Scarface using the motorized chair.
The young boy zipper reference? I like to refer to that as the best 4 seconds of my ladies life! Yes, Sky-Dad for the win!!
Oh and extra super secret credit to you for the Trebek visual. Spot-on my dear, he is the most pompous man in this universe and several parallel universes.
You better fix that stair-seat. Nana's gonna shank you with a filed-down toothbrush when she wakes up.
Kurt: Unless maybe it were a "Whorestand", because then it's economical AND a time-saver. Also, it would be cool if "whorestand" were an official move in Olympic gymnastics.
Libby: Well, I think it's because of that one time when I announced at her party, "I apologize, ladies, I'm so bad at names, it's just that everyone over 60 looks the same to me!"
JAG: The more people who think like you, the more leftover fish tacos for me. Mmm mmm.
Veg: The only downside to drinking and riding your Nana's motorized seat is that nobody's there to take pictures. That is also an upside.
Sarah P: Ok, I'm considering a post of fancy decorated funtime drinks now. Funjacutini, or Funjac n coke, the possibilities are endless.
Yankee G: What about Squeejaculate? Takes it up a notch.
The J: "Pissed as a newt"? I want more of those. Give me more of those Britishisms so I can use them next time I'm drinking alone. My dogs will get a kick out of them I bet.
Anonymous: Ew, Nanafish? Did I write that? That's fucking gross. I'm going to just pretend you wrote it, because I don't even remember writing that.
Pam: Pantyhammock is mine though. I would love a powernap in my pantyhammock right now.
Fatty S: Has your fat giant labia ever swallowed your thong to the point where the only evidence that you're even wearing underwear at all is the line of cloth emerging mysteriously from your pubic hair and running across your hips? Me neither.
soft nonny: I can't tell you what a compliment "spaz randomness" is. I love spazzy.
Scott: I know, I ruin everything. Maybe install one of those sex trapeze things, old people love those.
Ed: It wasn't you, Ed. If I'd been talking about you I would have said "accidentally grazed his crotch with my elbow" instead of "fiddling with his zipper."
Chelle: I don't drink, the drink wraps me around it, like a parasite, feeding off my sobriety. I'm the victim.
MJenky: The only way to get all the good parts is by cutting a lightning bolt shaped piece, corner to corner, picking up all the sugar roses and cowboy hats along the way.
WTWA: Your lexacawkward isn't so bad yourself. (That doesn't sound as good as beckabulary)
Claire: Thank you for the compliment!
khelsaoe: *deep bow, queen wave*
Alice: Aw, c'mere. Let me give you a big hug. There, there. Don't our boobs feel nice when they press together? Yes, yes they do. Shhhh...
Megs: The chair moves sideways though, like a crab, up the stairs. Does Scarface's do that? It's not very intimidating.
Skysdad: Oh, isn't he though? The mustache being gone now makes it worse, I think. Nothing to hide your smug mouth behind now, Trebek.
Betadad: When she wakes up. Pfft. I'm reeaaaal scared. *shifty eyes, backs away slowly*
I just went through your blogs and read all the Nana ones to my fiancee. We had a great laugh. : )
I laughed so loud some kids skateboarding in the street stopped to try and figure out if someone got hit by a car...I have to say the "tall, short... svelte, dwarf... queen of the world, troll doll..." started it all...oh my.....I think I officially lost the battle between dignity and out right screaming laughter was the Phlegmitter martini....
I figure she'll forgive the broken gears, as long as you didn't funjaculate all over Nana's stair seat...that would just be gross.
I'm waiting on the video clip of you surf riding the motorized stair chair. . . Oh, what a great idea. Can I come over and try?
I am drinking a margarita and eating a bowl of instant chocolate pudding as I type this.
I wish I had a motorized stair seat for all the trips to the potty I'm gonna have to make.
Damn, damn, damn. I can't take this indecision that has consumed my waking hours! I suffer most grievously with my infatuation with you sweet steamy and my primary health practioner. The two of you are the same age, give or take, are radiant visions of pultritude and cause me to forget that I am old and disgusting. Tour literary brilliance captures my attention and makes me laugh to the point of incontinance but she has palpated my prostate with fingers both agile and slender. What to do?
Hideous old man.
Do you remember how you went from work out clothes to high heels and a short black dress after the margaritas? That sounds like an interesting story too!
Back when I was younger, I used to drink really fast, and I'd premature funjuculate all the time. That's never fun, because my friends would always lock me in the bathroom.
This reminds me of when I used to be like you. And by "like you," I mean a woman.
I don't know how I lived my life without the word 'funjaculation'.
I think a motorized chair would improve my life sometimes. The absence of a car I am cool with though.
Funjaculate... he, he, he. I want to write "you are a NAUGHTY girl, Becky" but it sounds pervy. But you really are.
Man, there is no better seat in the house than the turlet, that's fo' sho'.
I too used to rock the panty head hammock move on occasion. But then one particularly hazy and hungover morning, I sort of forgot about the whole pad thing. Good news is it really helped get that morning-after-hurl started.
Wow that was a butt load of information and visuals. THough you did put a smile on my face. Never wore a thong, not sure now would be a good time to start. Have done the one high heel walk though - proudly, I think I pulled it off!
"Has your fat giant labia ever swallowed your thong to the point where the only evidence that you're even wearing underwear at all is the line of cloth emerging mysteriously from your pubic hair and running across your hips?"
Not 'til after I had two kids. But the good news is I heard that some aluminum will tighten that right up. Are staples made of aluminum?
Oh! To be a part of a Bollywood dance number.
Yeah... the drink drinks US. Whoa.
Damn, want to hook up sometime?
"I'd rather drink alone for the right reasons then drink with other people for the wrong ones?" I never seen a truer sentence. And drinking can also be replaced by sex (but the grammar would be jacked).
I want to funjaculate all over your cranberries. Is that wrong?
I tend to funjaculate when 15 year olds play with my zipper, too.
Maybe I read that wrong.
I need to start using sticky notes.
* insert funjaculation joke #2 here *
I cannot begrudge you all of the creepy old man and stalkerish comments of love...simply because you came up with funjaculate.
AND because you obviously like Coolio. *fist bump*
AND because this post made me laugh so hard I got my period. Which is awesome because a few weeks ago I accidently sat in some questionable whiteish liquid and I was afraid I might be knocked up again and for some reason that made the Mickey Avalon lyrics "P.S. We got dicks like Jesus" keep running through my head.
"QUEEN OF THE WORLD / troll doll..."
Always the aftermath of a funjaculation.
So much win. i am also a sucker for plastic drinking accessories but have never bought any. I think I'm going to go out and buy a packet of flamingo stirrers and umbrellas for my generic soda.
"Funjaculate" - Breakin' Nana's motorized stair chair...Gremlins style. WORD!
(There was just too much funny in this post. Just, too much.)
While I join everyone else in commending the creation of "funjaculate", my favorite part of this, hands down, is the concept of gerrymandering cake. If I am ever lucky enough to have a birthday cake featuring much sought after icing structures on top (unlikely at my advanced age), I am totally calling Birthday Boy Privilege and leaving that cake looking like it got attacked by a blind woodsman.
You have restored my faith in the Internet. I, too, almost funjaculated while reading this post.
Sara: Yeah, read em now, while you still can, I have to delete them when she dies so she can't read them from heaven.
Liz: Oh, that stair seat's seen worse, I bet. *dry heave*
Cindy: Have you ever ridden it? It comes to a jarring stop at the top! Cover your drink, is what I'm saying.
Jordan: A bowl of pudding? That implies you either made it yourself, or dumped it from the pudding cup into a bowl. And that? Is class, all the way.
Anony: Imagine, if you could get us both in the same room we could take you from both ends. To be clear, I get the brain/face end. She can take your bottom end. I have stubby fingers anyway, it's for the best.
Kathy: One was "last Saturday" and one was "yesterday", so not a great story there.
Tony: To be fair to you, that toilet was rubbing up on you all night. You're only human.
Muskrat: Welcome! I don't get nearly enough post-op transexual traffic here. Tell your friends! [wink emoticon]
Amanda: It's like, you didn't even know it was missing until it was there. Much like the love a mother feels for her baby, I imagine.
Kate: Exactly. "GO DEAD PEOPLE!" is a perfect example of what I'm talking about. You get me, Kate.
dietplaid: I wish my house were made of conveyor belts so I could just roll out of bed and flump onto the belt and it could take me downstairs to eat and I could spend my whole waking life in a heap. That would be lovely.
Em: I am! I am naughty!
Shasta: TURLET??! That word makes me so happy I need a nap now.
Elly: Oh God. That's gross. But if you let it dry it's like organic blush, right?
Mama W: Thongs are for suckers, I think. I'm all about visible panty lines most of the time now. True.
Fatty S: I don't know, but that was purely hypothetical. My childless twat is super firm. Skeletal almost. (Is it cheating if I've scotch taped my labia back against my asshole? No, right?)
Cap'n: Oh I KNOW, right? A girl can dream...
Chelle: Yeah, man. Its like... *passes out*
Anon: EH? Weirdest spam ever?
Buffy: "I'd rather sex alone for the right reasons" sounds right. Like philosophical depressed poorly-translated spam.
Beckeye: No, but I'd rather you Gerrymandered my frankenberries, though. EY-YO! *golf club swIng*
Moooooog: One time, a boy funjaculated because I looked at his zipper provocatively and with sexual intentions. Man, sex was so easy when we were kids, right?
OWO: That Coolio thing was for you. And you claiming I made you get your period makes up for all the people who have ever claimed to have spit their Coke on their keyboard laughing. Awesome.
Steff: Go ahead and make sweet love to my nanafish. In other news, I just made up a new nickname for my vagina.
Linnnn: If I only had 4 more inches, I'd be a top model. I'm stuck down here in troll land. Damn.
Soda: You should! And plastic monkeys! And sand! The sand is rough going down, but it looks so tropical at the bottom of the glass, it's worth it.
Karen: I'm like Mowgli in a sports bra, totally.
Daddy S: Your lungs say no, but your eyes say yes, Daddy. You know you love me.
WWW: Ok, first, I'm pissed I spelled Gerrymandering wrong. My brain just doesn't accept Gerry with a g, I think it's an effect of a lifetime of Tom and Jerry cartoons. Also, too old for icing structures? FUCK THAT. Here's what you do. Go down to Goldilocks, the Filipino bakery off Wilshire and Western, they do that shit up right. You can get, like, a sheet cake decorated with a two foot tall Quidditch goal, giant marshmallow tidal waves, random airbrushed scenes...I'm telling you, nobody does cakes like the Filipinos.
Brutalism: I made otherworldly one up there get her fucking period. Come back when you've shot liquid out of an orifice. The bar is pretty high now.
Oh, lah-dee-dah, Miss ICanUseScotchTape. Just because some of us are old and saggy and have to use Duct Tape!
On the plus side, Duct Tape is a lot cheaper than waxing.
Ha. While you were imaginary passed out, I imaginary drew a cock-n-balls on your face cheek. I say "face" to clarify that I didn't molest your skirts in any way. I don't sexually internet assault imaginarily incoherent people.
Has internet role play gone too far? Hmm.
ha, tag 'posts to delete when nana dies' and also master 'brator wow. love this
"posts to delete when nana dies" - HA, excellent tag dude.
Is it bad that all I took away from that story was that I could really go for a margarita?
Sorry...I've been drinking. It's hard to focus.
I was master brating while I was reading this. Is that wrong? Am I going to hell? At least I am tidy and plan to wipe up all the funjaculate... can I borrow your head hammock for a sec?
I knew it! *smug grin*
Weeeellll...maybe I exaggerated a bit. Maybe I already had it. But there was definitely a...glug.
I know this has already been said eight million times in these comments, but - funjaculation?
I think you need to call Webster's man, cause that is the best new word EVER!
Dude... that's all I can even say. You funny.
I am so tired of Nana's air hogging. She can be such a bitch. Also, I'm pretty sure churros are actually what are made in trees by magical elves, not by carnies with no sink access. At least that's what I have to believe in order to eat them. I'm sure you understand. So delicious... churros... mmmm...
I found your blog the other day and it made me laugh so hard I almost had anal leakage. Not really 'cause that's gross and I don't eat that much fish. But seriously, this blog is amazing!
I get hundreds of articles and blogs in my reader feeder every day for general grazing purposes. I totally funjaculate when I see one is from you. There's only like one other blog that does that to me. Congratulations, the wet spot in my brain is your fault.
I'm so glad you could introduce jaculation as a postfix to probably any word. Last night when I was playing rugby I think I may have had a brojaculation...
I really think you should embroider some of those sayings on a pillow. Or maybe a funjaculate towel.
Also? Could I please stop thinking about the Nanafish and her delicate tendril of poop? Thanks.
Dag nammit...how do I subscribe via email? I'm attired of being the 747th commenter...oh you can say you read them all but comon' Becks...
Next time I go out I'm ordering the dingleberry martini in your honor!
Almost been there, almost done that.
Oh the Words to live by ...Thank YOU!
I want to drink with you. I'll bring the tiny umbrellas.
Phlegm and kitty litter - what a coincidence, that's what I had for breakfast!
If I may use my own metaphor, your blog has helped me to discover that I am definitely multi-orgasmic in the tickle-bone department.
When I read most blog posts, I get one good laugh. Yours? Jesus christ, someone has to help me walk afterward because my legs are trembling and I desperately need a cigarette.
between you and Irish Gumbo i've smiled T H I S B I G
thanks ;)
I lost you...but I found you again. I <3 that you used Gerrymander....it is my fave political word. Ah you make me laugh so hard with your epic metaphors.
I'm amazed you live in a world where there are half empty frozen margarita machines anywhere at all.
I suppose the Cleveland equivalent would be finding a half full pack of PBR you left on the windowsill overnight.
I've totally heard that saying before! It's a bible verse, right?!
Oh! I totally missed that they were two separate events. Slightly distracted by not yet potty trained kid who likes to run around taking off her diapers while screaming "Don't touch me!"
Wow, skipped over here from SATGS and am now wiping my eyes from laughing and trying to explain to my kid why she's not allowed to read this post (because I don't want to have to explain funjaculate)(or master 'brator)(or the young girl zipper reference). Thanks for putting a laugh in the start of what will not be a GREAT day!
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