Boner is Dead

Tragic news: Boner was found dead today in a park in Vancouver.  Why did he have to kill all my fun Boner jokes?

Maybe we can get Woody Harrelson to disappear for a few days so we can continue the wiener jokes.  Or perhaps Dick Cheney and/or Peter Gallagher can go off into hiding.

Damn it, Boner.  Damn you.

May you rest in peace.

Which is different from resting in piece.  This is only funny if I tell you that 3D used to refer to his junk as “Piece”.  Why?  I do not know.  But we had all sorts of funny jokes about his junk.  For example, he was all about offering “piece to all mankind”.  Sometimes, I would say, “Piece be with you.”  Or we would talk about POTUS (Piece of the United States).

Stupid.

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Boner is Missing!

Have you heard the news?  It’s a potential tragedy: grown up child actor, Andrew Koenig, is missing.  Don’t recognize his name?  That’s OK, neither did I.  This poor bastard is also known as Boner, from Growing Pains.  Oh yeah, now you know exactly who I’m talking about.

No wonder he’s missing.  Can you imagine being known your whole adult life as a euphemism for an erection?  I can imagine all the trouble he must have gone through.  Wedding vows, “Do you, Boner, take this woman…”

If only he had left an autobiography.  Perhaps something with a clever name like:

• I, Boner
• Boner Stories
• Boner: My Story of Perseverance

WAIT!  Maybe his relatives will write his biography.  It can be called, “My Boner.”

YEAH!

Oh, Mom. You’re So Cute When You’re Being Stupid.

We have this weird thing we do in our family: we have decided that food poisoning does not scare us.  For years we have left food out of the fridge for days and continued to eat it.  Christmas turkey?  It’ll sit on the counter for an entire week before there’s even talk of putting the food away.  Why?  Because it’s relatively cold and we don’t think we’re going to get sick.

Nine times out of ten when I make soup or stew I’ll let it sit in the pot on the stove for at least a day before it goes in the fridge.  After all, the cover is on so it’s not exactly like it’s going to go bad in 37 seconds.  Or even 37 hours.  Dairy products?  Unless it’s really super hot, we don’t mind leaving them out for awhile.  Screw that stupid rule about putting dairy away within four hours.

FOOD POISONING, WE DO NOT FEAR YOU!

But even I draw the line at some point.  This morning while I was at my mom’s I was scolding her for not having any milk for my coffee.  She informed me that there was some Coffee Mate in the fridge so I started poking around.  I took one look at it, recognized that it was decorated with Christmas tree ornaments and new that it was WAY past it’s expiration date.  I insisted that we should throw it away immediately if not sooner.

• Mom: No, it isn’t!  It’s fine.
• Catherinette: No, mom, it’s bad.
• Mom: It’s not.  It’s fine, it hasn’t been opened.
• Catherinette: It’s so old!  I’ll die if I drink any of it.
• Mom: Check the label.  It’s fine.
• Catherinette: It expired on February 28th…of 2008.
• Mom: Oh, really?  Why don’t you just open it and check it.
• Catherinette: Are you serious??  It expired almost two years ago and you want me to freaking drink it? What the hell is wrong with you?
• Mom: Fine, then I’ll just put it back in the fridge.  Someone will drink it.
• Catherinette: Seriously?  You think someone is going to see that it’s two years old and they’re going to think, “Yeah, it’s fine?”
• Mom: Sure.  Why not?
• Catherinette: Really, mom?  Who might that be?
• Mom: Fine!

She then proceeded to lecture me on being wasteful as she poured the contents down the sink.  Shockingly enough, it wasn’t chunky.  It did, however, smell like minty dirt.  This, my mom insisted, was perfectly normal.

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Lent(tl) Soup

You crazy Catholics with your Easter Bunny, and your Jesus on the Cross, and the holy trinity, and your giving up stuff for Lent, and your priests that molest kids.  You so crazy!

I love this time of year.  For some reason, it brings me great joy to see all my Catholic friends give up stuff for Lent.  I take the opportunity to surround myself with whatever they give up.  If they decide no chocolate for 40 days, then every time that I see them I’m eating chocolate.  No swearing?  More f bombs from me in their presence.  No drinking?  More invitations to Happy Hour.

I’m evil.  I know it.  I’m an Atheist, I don’t care.

This year, however, I’ve decided to take a different approach.  I’m going to give up Claude for Lent.  That’s right.

• No more stories about multiple honeypots.
• No more emailing him and demanding that he respond immediately if not sooner.
• No more stories about Meow.
• No more stories about how he got busy in the dressing room at Macy’s at 10 in the morning.

Sacrifice?  No, not really.  It’s rage.  He’s jetting off to Hawaii right this very second and I’m green with envy. 

DAMN YOU, CLAUDE!

Just the Tip Tuesday (02/16/10)

Exactly none of the guys that I’ve dated have ever known their way around the kitchen.  Sure, some of them had some mad skills in the bedroom, but when it came to cooking, it was a sad, sad display.

Un-boyfriend made me exactly one omelette in the 2 years we went out.  Mr. Big X was fond of making bland egg sandwiches.  Hairy McBacksweat liked to fry catfish.  When the time came to make the meal, it was my ass in the kitchen.  I enjoy cooking, and I’m pretty good at making some dishes.  It would be nice, however, to find a dude that could cook something other than a bland freaking egg.

Enter today’s pick: Tyler Florence.

Yes, I know that he’s gotten a little doughy lately, but guess what?  I don’t care. 

I used to tune into Food 911 years ago.  It was always hilarious to see all those women doll themselves up.  They all had the same dream that I did: that Tyler Florence would cook them a meal and then molest them over the dining room table.

The Definition of Annoying

A few months ago while I still had my profile up on one of the online dating sites, I met a guy.  He was nice enough, kind of interesting, nothing to write home about.  We exchanges some emails and then it just died.  No tears were shed.  Whatever, who cares?

Fast forward a few months, the dude finds me on Facebook, and sends me a friend request.  Innocent enough, I think so I go ahead and accept it.  He had started dating someone, which, again, I didn’t care about because it wasn’t like I was banking on spending the rest of my life with him.  He was just a dude that would pop up as a friend and that was that.

Until he broke up with the girl about 2 weeks ago.  Suddenly he is ALL over  my facebook page.  In the last 2 days he has commented – no joke here – about 50 times.  Yesterday I uploaded some of my exciting videos of the snow, and they were popular with the people.  Every time one of my other friends would comment, he would add in a comment.  Today he and my cousin went back and forth guessing why I hadn’t responded to my posts.  To the tune of 27 comments.  He’s now friended my cousin and another friend of mine.

It’s kind of ironic that all of his postings started after I posted a note about this creepy ass dude that hit on me over the weekend.  Suddenly, BAM, I have a facebook stalker.

Seriously, dude?  No.  No fucking way.

I feel like a bitch if I drop him like a hot potato, but then again, all of this is fucking annoying.  If this is his idea of game, then he’s a total tool.  Game over, dude.  Move along.