Geeky Talks
My blog went through a mid-life crisis and all I got was this red convertible sports car.
I’m not afraid to call a spade a spade. To cry wolf. To roll my eyes at my own self. Yes, yes YES. I get it. I know! I went to a blogging conference and realized I had to stop blogging. STAT.
Irony doesn’t stop there.
During an interview with The Washington Fing Post (like Oh My God), I worked through some of my blog angst. It was like all I needed was for some reporter from some totally random newspaper to interview me and I’d go, “Hu. No, I see the value in blogging.” And I did.
And lo, the people rejoiced.
But there are changes. I’m changing. I’m currently caught up in design standards, type 2 diabites and “what the hell to do with my preschooler who is too smart for her own good”. The reason I started this blog has morphed in to something else. My blog? It’s growing up. It’s not about postpartum depression or newborn spitup. It’s not about accepting my role as a mother. No, it’s a place I go to connect, to voice an opinion, to reach out to like minded moms.
Which is why I’m excited to announce that there will be a MRS. FLINGER VERSION TWO POINT OH (:: OHohohoh echo :: )
Watch for it. Subscribe for it. Wait for it. It’s coming. It’s awesome. I’m so excited I can hardly sleep at night. (ok, that’s a stretch. I sleep just fine.) But I do think this is the Best Thing Ever that’s happened to this space and I am very excited to share it with you.
In the mean-time:
Let’s play a game, shall we? While we wait for routers to propagate, for servers to update, for this lazy-ass-designer (god, who did I hire to do this thing anywa? Oh, me, right..) let’s play a little “get to know you” ice-breaker.
You ready?
Grab a glass of wine. I’ll wait. (humm a humm)
Ok. We’re set: Here goes:
Let’s start a story and each comment hereafter continues the story as it is told above it. Remember doing this in school? Someone would start a story and someone else would continue it, add to it and so on? It’s fun. No! Trust me. Not like “drinking game” fun but fun-non-the-less.
Ready? I’ll start (shocker)
:: A man walked down the street. He was a good man, a noble man, a man who knew good fashion and wore superb hats. He clicked his heals as the cobblestone street passed under him. He was excited. He was energetic. He was waiting for new of ...... ::
Your turn. Ready? Go! (someone add to this and then someone else add to their story and so on. Got it? Yes? Good. Let the good times roll, people!)
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when he would get his pants. For although he wore superb hats, he was often forgetful about putting on his pants. He called his wife who was to bring them to him and….......
she told him that she would bring the pants. Of course, he forgot that his wife was also quite forgetful. And while on her way to deliver her adoring husband’s pants she was distracted by something shiny in the Macy’s window display. Ok so it wasn’t so much shiny as it was awesome. She immediately pulled over and parked her car, abandoning any and all thoughts of her husband’s pants. She walked right into the store and told the first sales clerk she saw that she absolutely had to have….
the man in the window. He was a Macy’s employee and after one look at him she suddenly decided that she was too good for a man who could not remember to wear pants on a regular basis. Surely this Macy’s employee never left home without pants, and maybe he even loaded dishes in the dishwasher at home. She dared to dream. So she ran to the window and…...
a cheeseburger. “But, ma’am,” said the first sales clerk, “this is Macy’s. I think you’re looking for McDonald’s.” The wife snapped back,“Not. I’m looking for my…
cheeseburger-dreamboat-man-candy from the window! She marched through the store with slightly annoyed salespeople trailing behind her. She was growing more and more anxious about this man/burger/pants confusion, but her scowl turned into a surprised smile when she saw…
that she had been temporarily insane when she thought she could get the guy in the window, since everybody knows that window dressers don’t like women. She was equally unlikely to find a cheeseburger in Macys, so she headed next door to . . .
McDonalds where she knew she *would* find a cheeseburger. A double at that! (She was a woman and therefore was more than allowed to change her mind.) And as she stepped up to place her order, she saw…
the guy from the window.
“I know you think I’m gay…but I’m not.”
“Can I buy you a Big Mac?” She asked….
that the McFlurries were on sale. “Hell,” she thought, “I’ve made it this far for a damn cheeseburger. I might as well blow my Zone on some faux ice cream.” She grabbed her sack from the pimply kid behind the counter and sashayed out. She stopped at the nearest picnic bench, devoured the greasy burger, licked her lips in preparation for dessert and looked up sheepishly just in time to see her ex-boyfriend from ten years ago smirking down at her. Damn her pantsless husband. This was all his fault.
If she had known how forgetful he was, she never would have broken off the affair with her ex-boyfriend. They could have continued on for years and, if her husband had ever caught them, he would have forgotten about it immediately. If only her ex was pantless! If only ...
I could eat this Big Mac in peace without witnesses that might later spread the word about her unfortunate addiction the all-important beef tallow used in the french fry grease. She threw her burger on the ground with a prayer for all the local pigeons who suffered from high cholesterol…but who would nevertheless feast on the remains of her unhealthy dinner.
Meanwhile, the forgetful pantless man with superb hats decided that waiting 5 hrs for his wife to bring pants was way too long. Who really needs pants anyways? They are over-rated. So he left the pub and went on his merry way. As he continued skipping down the street, he stopped suddenly because he no longer remembered what he was so excited about. He ponder for 30 seconds and it came to him! He was so excited about..
...his Nagel collection. Oh, how those angular hairdos and bespectacled ladies of the eighties turned him on. Maybe, just maybe tonight was the night that he could finally sneak down to his secret print gallery and spent time with his Nagels. Suddenly, a sign caught his eye. It read?
... “Free Original Nagels if you can sing Duran Duran songs.” He was so excited he wet his boxer briefs. He hurried into the shop and called out into the empty room. No one replied, but music started to play. He started to sing…
but quickly realized that he DIDN’T actually know any Duran Duran songs! He gasped in horror at himself, and frantic not to miss this amazing opportunity, ran next door to the very conveniently located 80’s vintage record store. There, through the window, he spied on the counter…
two dancing elves. He scratched his head and wondered why in THE hell there were elves dancing on the counter. This was not the first time he’s witnessed such an oddity, he thought back to the time when…
he was younger, and the garden gnomes, and the christmas elves, and the easter bunny, and the toothfairy all danced the macarena in his kitchen while the wizard of oz fixed him margeritas…
and then he snapped out of it.
I’m having an acid flashback, he thought to himself. It was then that he realized that wetting himself was, unfortunately, not part of this drug-induced flashback and he’d be needing a new pair of boxer briefs, along with his pants.
He reached in his man bag and grabbed his cell. With trembling fingers (because he was trying to keep the beat to ‘Hungry Like the Wolf,’) he diales his wife’s number . . .
before forgetting just who it was he was calling. He looked up and caught his reflection in the window.
“Oh no!” he thought, realizing the feather on his snazzy hat had wilted. “I must get me a new hat!”
Looking down, he shook his head, wondering who’s phone he’d borrowed. He handed it to the sales girl behind the counter and…
...she gave him a puzzled look.
“Sir…we dont’ sell cell phones here. I can’t exchange or…”
“Blast exchanging it. I just want you to tell me what it says! Whose it is! Who I am! Because honestly, I can’t for the life of me remember who the hell I am right now!” He panted, looking around the shop for something familiar.
“Sir, please calm down. You know…” she looked at him sideways, “I think I’ve seen you in here before. You were the gentleman who caused that great big ruckus when we wouldn’t sell that woman with you the last of our…”
“Miss Pennigat!” Shouted what appeared to be a supervisor. The woman’s eyes grew large and she looked down, excusing herself the back.
He watched her leave in desperation, scanning the room for anyone that might know him, to no avail.
The manager quietly picked up a phone and dialed. He turned away from the man and whispered into the phone.
“He’s here. Yes, just like you said he would be. I don’t think so. Yes. Yes, I will. He’ll be here. Okay then.”
He set the phone down and walked toward the man, staring at him intently with clear, frightened blue eyes and…
told the other clerk to go get him a chair. “You poor soul, you don’t remember anything, do you?”
“I think its time someone told you about the accident. The one where you…”
... Swerved to avoid a squirrel and ran into a bus full of tourists.
(and type 2 diabetes? yikes, I’m sorry)
“Tourists?” The man was horrified. He was hoping only one thing…
...that the tourists were on their way to Graceland, to see where Elvis had lived.
And while there, they feasted on their lunches of peanut butter and banana sandwiches - fried, of course.
BUT THE TRUTH OF THE MATTER WAS
they were not on their way to Graceland
they were on their way to Dollywood
which you and BOTH know is a very magical place.
BUT BACK TO THE STORY
meanwhile back at the ranch, the pantless man’s wife (who is very much dressed) is gazing up at her ex-boyfriend with lust in her eyes
“HOLD ME,” she gasps
But instead of taking her in his firm and passionate embrace, her ex-boyfriend (who we’ll call Bob) says…
“Hold you? I came here to tell you to stop calling me. Stop coming by my house at all hours of the night and making that racket outside. Stop harrassing my wife and following my kids home from school! We’ve been over for years! We broke up in high school, and I have no desire to relive that part of my past. I have a good life now, and I don’t want you screwing it up!”
“But Bob,” she said, “I….
I have something I’ve never told you…something desperate…something horrid…something I now know you must embrace.” “Bob,” she explains, “I know the truth—the truth about Beatrix…
Beatrix is really a man! Forgive me for not…
telling you sooner but I was afraid you wouldn’t believe me. See I dated her, er a, him back in high school. He is the father of my son max.
And that’s not all…...
telling you sooner but I was afraid you wouldn’t believe me. See I dated her, er a, him back in high school. He is the father of my son max.
And that’s not all…...
my son Max is actually a girl named Ginger…
When she said the word “Ginger” it triggered something in her brain. “OMG. I am so sorry. I have to go. I was supposed to pick Max up hours ago from…”
The Pet Shop where Max works with poodles, oddly, all of whose names are Ginger. No, really, you think I’m making this up but you can’t make these things up!” She dashed off to jump in the car when she realized…
...she wasn’t wearing any pants.
It seems like the man who wore superb hats is not the only forgetful pants person in this marriage.
So? She…
...opened the glove compartment and grabbed her earthquake survival bag, pulling out first aid gauze to fashion a toga. Suddenly, she heard a loud…
...sound. It sounded like a tree. Yes, that was definitely a falling tree in a forest. She knew it even though she didn’t see actually see it; but it did, indeed, make a sound. A very loud, cracking sound, which caused her to completely forget about the toga, the pants, her ex, Beatrix, Max, Ginger, the poodles, the cheeseburger, her pants-less husband and his strange Nagel collection, and the Macy’s dude. “What was I…wait. Is that my cell phone ringing?” she asked nobody in particular. “I swear I…
heard ‘Bust a Move’ playing. That’s my special ring tone for…