Fun pony

A text from Julia this afternoon:

"I just saw a car in the staff parking lot with a license plate that said FUN PONY."

Bacon midget

Courtesy of Todd (and laughablelists.com):

You Might Be A Midget If…

You need safety glasses to cook bacon.

You’re 27 years old and you still hear, “awe, look at their little boots.”

Your feet dangle when you take a shit.

You do all your clothes shopping during the kids back to school day sales.

You can’t actually kick someone’s ass with your foot, but you are just the right height to kiss it.

The lights on your christmas tree only go half way up.

You take offense if someone asks if you want to play, “mini-golf.”

You need both hands to hold a coke.

You jump out of bed every morning.

You hear the word, “Awe”, more than the word, “WOW”, from your girlfriend.

Discipline by Mel

me: one of the new interns is already driving me crazyshe showed up two hours late today--her second day--and strolled in like it was no thangMelissa: haha

3:19 PM when she's walking around a corner, scare her grab herdrag her aroundand hold her close by the collar "Listen, if you don't shape up, you're out of here" then smash a mug on the floor

make a throat cutting motion and point at her

with crazy eyesme: followed by a silent, triumphant fist pumpMelissa: oh yes. the best kind.

Nekkid facial

A collection of text messages from last night:

Me: Why am I taking off ALL of my clothes to get a facial?

Mel: You sure you went to the right place??? hahah. Nekkid facial!

[2 hours later]

Me: Facial finished! All glowy, i.e. oiled up.

Mel: I should become an esthetician. But then I'd have to touch strangers.

Me: Fat, old, scaly strangers

Mel: Though they'd have their eyes closed, so I could still make eebie jeebie faces.

Me: And have any faux accent you want when explaining the health benefits of eukalyptus.

Mel: I'd probably use a booming Russian one. How about you?

Me: Dainty and asian

Mel: haha Daisian!

Me: Seeeeeeeeee! He don't have problem with haaaaaaaarddddd onnnnnnn. [Disclaimer: Every single one of you, all four of you that read this, have heard the story about Kirby at the rub 'n' tug in Pittsburgh, yes?]

Mel: Not so dainty, but that's definitely the #1 thing to say to clients--in any line of work.

Me: I'll remember that when I'm a 5th grade teacher.

Dip it again

me: philly soft pretzel cinnamon and sugar pretzels

NOWHERE near as good as auntie anne's

3:33 PM Todd and i stopped at an auntie anne's in penn station a few weeks ago

and there was this super fabulous gay man behind us in line that, when he ordered his pretzel, asked

"is it dipped in butter? Yea? Well, dip it again. EXTRA BUTTER"

3:34 PM

Melissa: ahhahaha!!

well, dip it again

me: thats what she said

The world's most delicious treat

My co-worker bought me the ultimate present: Bacon chocolate. That right there is the instant cure-all for a case of the Mondays. The back wrapper of each chocolate bar has some serious food porn talk going on. Enjoy:

BACON + CHOCOLATE?

I began experimenting with bacon + chocolate at the tender age of 6, while eating chocolate chip pancakes drenched in syrup, as children often do. Beside my chocolate-laden cakes laid 3 strips of sizzlin' bacon, just barely touching a sweet pool of maple syrup. And then, the magic--just a bit of the bacon was too salty and I yearned for the sweet kiss of chocolate and syrup, so I combined the two. In retrospect, perhaps this was a turning point; for on that plate something magical happened, the beginnings of a combination so ethereal and delicious that it would haunt my thoughts until I found the medium to express it--chocolate.

From there, it was just a matter of time... and what began as a love of salt and sweet quickly unraveled into an obsession. No sooner could I wait to unveil the royal coupling in solid bar form, a deep milk chocolate with bits and pieces of applewood smoked bacon and just a sprinkling of Alder salt. Really, what doesn't taste better with bacon?

Breathe... engage your 5 senses, close your eyes and inhale deeply. Be in the present moment, notice the color of the chocolate, the glossy shine. Rub your thumb over the chocolate bar to release the aromas of smoked applewood bacon flirting with deep milk chocolate. Snap off just a tiny piece and place it in your mouth, let the lust of salt and sweet coat your tongue.

Peace, love + chocolate.

Adventures in DC-land

I was in DC Monday through Wednesday, spending my evenings gallivanting about with Todd, Agathug, Jamie, and Tim and enjoying the company of urinating homeless men while my friends worked during the day.

Monday night, we sipped margaritas and watched a middle-aged woman cheer on her favorite team as she grinded against a gargantuan man twenty-five years her senior. His flushed face glistened with sweat under the moonlight and matched his pastel, salmon shirt perfectly. A serious discussion ensued:

Agathug: That man looks like a fat hamster.

Todd: That man looks like my grandpa.

Agathug: Well, you just saw your grandpa grinding.

At Tuesday’s dinner, Jamie, Tim, Agatha, Todd, and I retreated back into elementary school cafeteria mode. We downed margaritas and Mexican beers on the roofdeck of a nice Mexican restaurant. As the waiter gathered our empty plates, Jamie scooped up some browning guacamole slop that had been spilled during the first course. “Well, who’s going to eat this?” she asked and sprinkled some tortilla chip crumbs from table onto it. After all, any gourmand would stress the importance of a meal’s presentation. “Val,” she continued, “I'll buy you your next drink if you eat this." Done.

Todd aptly pointed out, "Jamie, you spoon fed her and didn't even make an airplane noise. What's up with that?" Jamie--the same Jamie I fell in love with in 8th grade the first time I saw her do the latin jig--grabbed a giant spoon and loaded it up with white rice and jalapeno salsa. Todd sprinkled the concoction with Splenda, proclaiming that it wasn’t gross enough yet and shouted, "Airplane noises!"

Jamie immediately started making... lamb noises? Impersonating a dial-up modem connecting to internet? Speaking the language of the African bushman? Basically, any noise but an airplane. She looked at Tim and politely requested that he make the noises. As she swirled this spoon of death into my mouth, like a kamikaze pilot determined to meet his destination, Tim sat aside with on-point propellor noises spewing. Not even the artificial goodness of Splenda could simmer down the heat of those jalapenos, and I immediately began sweating. My eyes were so red I'm sure everyone thought I was celebrating 4/20 in style, and then... my nose started to run. I asked Todd if he had a tissue and, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he handed me a tortilla leftover from his fajitas. I used it. Jamie started crying. "You... just... blew... your... nose... in... a... tortilla!"

Todd expressed concern and asked if I needed a glass of milk, Tim was rightfully horrified, and Agatha just stared at me and said...

"Val... you look like you've been through a lot."

Last night, on the bus ride back to Philly, Agatha and I recapped the DC adventures via text. I noted that I was upset there were no tortillas around, in case someone on the bus had an allergy attack. The convo continued as follows:

Agatha: Dang! Pita bread?

Me: Banana peel.

Agatha: Plastic grocery bag.

Me: The weave of the woman sitting in front of me.

Agatha: The inside of a sweaty turban.

Me: Ding ding ding. You're the winner.

The past few days were hard on my arteries and liver, and I came back to work with over 200 new emails and a Larry to deal with... but, I haven't stopped giggling all day. Thank you, my beautiful Motley Crew of friends. You rock my skull.