So i went on a date to a haunted house and made friends with the girls behind us. As we’re going through, one of them is holding my hand and a guy leaps out and separates us. I panic as my date is pulling me along, I reach back for her and grab her hand in a group of three other performers and start getting out if there. After a bit I look back to check on her and I discover I’m holding the hand of a six foot tall zombie creature and not a 5’2" girl.
Cue the most terrifying realization of my life.
I had basically kidnapped this performer from his section and abandoned the girl and her friend behind us.
Yes, I screamed. My date thought it was Hilarious.
Yes, we found the girls. Turns out when I grabbed the performers hand, he grabbed theirs so our group wouldn’t be separated. So there was just this zombie in the middle of our group line for like fifty feet
i had the best human interaction of all time last night. i was sitting at a bar eating an appetizer and this guy comes up to order a drink and stares at my food and comments how good it looks. when i am drunk i use the word bitch like it is a comma, i plug it into any space in a sentence possible. so naturally the first thing i say to this stranger is, “go ahead and take one, bitch.”
he looks SO shocked and taken aback and goes “what did you just say? how do you know my name?” so i sit there for a moment trying to figure out what the fuck he is talking about, and then go, “…. bitch?” and he looks so relieved and tells me his name is mitch.
i cannot stop thinking about this. oh my god. imagine going into a bar and someone you know for a fact youve never met approaches you and says “go ahead and take one, mitch.” im cracking the fuck up. he looked like he thought this was the fucking truman show
So this couple walks in- a broad-shouldered man with an accent (Italian, I think) and a man that I can best describe as looking like Cecil Palmer.
“Okay- weird question. So you guys did our wedding- amazing by the way. And it’s been a month and just about all the flowers in the vases have died by now except for this one thing that’s really holding on in there. And we want to know what that plant is and how to take care of it to keep it alive. And we don’t know how to like… describe it and it sounds kind of weird to go to up to a stranger and say ‘hey what’s this weird wiggly green plant you put in our vases a month ago?’ but I guess that’s what I’m asking.”
“Sounds like curly willow. If you keep it in water it will eventually start rooting and you can grow a new plant from it from the cutting.”
“That is too cool! What do you suggest we do?”
“Well, you can keep it in the water for now, but eventually you’ll want to pot it in soil because that’s how it’s going to get its nutrients.”
“Can we,” the Italian guy asks. “Can we plant it in the floor?” I figure he means ‘plant it outside.’
I nod. “It’ll keep growing.”
“What does it look like when it’s bigger? Does it stay like a wiggly stick?”
“Oh, no, it’ll branch out. It’s actually a tree.”
The skinnier one turns to his husband and says:
“Did you hear that, honey? They gave us a tree! We have a tree now!”
today I went out to get some research started with two other people i’m working with and we ended up on this fairly treacherous cliff/slope spot trying to navigate to some tricky coordinates and one of my group members slipped on the slope and started sliding and he reached out and grabbed for a sapling and the ground was so loose it just started going down with him and I was too far away to immediately help him but I wanted to alert my other group member to his peril but I fuckin’ panicked and I just said “THERE he GOES”
if you ever feel you didn’t respond correctly to a situation, ask yourself if you watched someone all but totally fall off a cliff and said “there he goes”
OBVIOUSLY he’s okay or I wouldn’t have posted about it. He got another, sturdier tree.
one time i was camping with my gf in a park that had hella bears and it was dark and we were sitting around the campfire and i had the sudden inkling to turn around and there was a bear not five feet behind me and my first instinct was to say “HEY. YOURE not supposed to be here!” and i feel like that has very similar energy
Every time my extended family gets together in upstate ny, we (the Adults) all get wasted & at least 1 giant Family Scandal comes out…..tonight is that night..
We’ve Got A Winner Folks, And It Involves Arson AND A Nun!
So apparently my aunt cecelia (not really my aunt, just the best friend of my dads cousin, whomst we also call aunt) once married a dude referred to only as Florida Asshole. He was named such because he apparently left my aunt cecelia while she was in the hospital, stole all of their stuff, and fucked off to florida. Aunt cecelia then hired a p.i. to find him, as u do, and went down to florida with my dads cousin (who was going to florida for a work trip, and had no idea Florida Asshole was there). Apparently the p.i. told aunt cecelia which city the guy was in, but hadnt found the exact address yet, so ofc aunt cecelia did what any other able bodied half insane scorned person might. She went to a costume shop, bought a full nun costume, and went door to door under the assumption that she was collecting charity. (She did, in fact, donate everything she collected. This was an important fact to her). At one of the houses, she looked in the window and noticed an awful lot of furniture that used to be hers. So she, obviously, went to a gas station and bought several cans of gasoline, threw a molotov cocktail through the front window, and began pouring gasoline over the rest of the house. At this point, Florida Asshole came outside, recognized his ex wife looking like a renegade nun sent to punish him for his sins, and began beating her. The neighbors, seeing the strange new man beating a nun in his front yard while his house was on fire, did the only sensible thing in this story and called the police. Who promptly arrested Florida Asshole for assaulting a nun. Aunt cecelia did not get arrested, came clean to her best friend, and was immediately sent back to new york with a ticket bought under my other aunt’s name. We don’t know if she still has an arrest warrant out for her in florida, and that’s tonight’s Family Scandal!
At the next family gathering im gonna sit down, unsuspecting, w my bottle of rosé and the scandal is gonna be when my cousin whips out her phone and opens it up to this post and then everyone’s gonna scroll thru my blog and im gonna stick my head in the oven
just engaged in an extremely petty silent war throughout the church service i was playing organ for, which is arguably very much not in the christian spirit but it was VERY fun
i say silent war, it was a pianist vs organist war, which is probably the least silent a war could be. but at no point was war explicitly verbally declared
what happened was the pianist playing some of the hymns and mid service music came up to me as i was practising beforehand and said to me, in a very patronising “i am a middle aged man and you are but a young woman so i know more than you” way, “that gloria is very difficult isn’t it!!”. so i was like ha, not really 🙂 and he decided to grill me on my whole musical past and tell me how he was incorporating beethoven’s ninth into his pre service improv and other such pretentious things
so naturally being a competitive and petty person i decided i would absolutely have to outdo him, which was not easy considering he was playing a decent keyboard and i was playing a tiny pipe organ that often performs as if someone just kicked it down several flights of stairs
and thus throughout the service we escalated in playing ridiculously flourishy accompaniments, a battle which culminated in him physically dancing down the aisles during my last hymn shaking a maraca with total haphazard glee, which i countered by becoming maybe the first person to force several jazzy glissandi into an 11:30am pipe organ rendition of “sing hosanna”. i enjoyed every second
one time on that same campus someone in the equine program didn’t shut a pasture gate and the pastures were just right there where all the classes were so when all the horses got out I just left class and saw first: a bunch of horses running
second: a bunch of equine majors chasing them on Foot for some reason
third: a group of students from the city just absolutely losing their minds laughing and recording it on their phones
fourth: a terrified work-study student parking authority who, when I asked, said “I don’t know anything about horses, but they told me to stop them if the come this way. what’ll happen if they do?? will they trample me???”
fifth: a group of boys in cowboy hats and flannels that I ended up standing with while the whole thing unfolded.
it took Twenty Minutes for someone to get on horseback to corral the herd.
I was like “is anyone on horseback?? what’s going on??”
and they said “no. we’re wondering when they’ll figure that out.”
i’m watching an art theft documentary and they’re interviewing this art history professor from new york who was asked to go with the fbi to authenticate a rubens that had been stolen but it was a sting operation so they had to pretend like they weren’t the fbi, that they were some private buyer about to pay $3.5 million for it, and the fbi was like “this is a VERY delicate operation because you never know how they will react to what you have to say so let the agent do all of the talking, don’t say a word to anyone just nod if it’s the rubens, the last operation we did the guy in your position got shot because things went wrong in a second” and then it cuts to the professor’s interview and he says “i wasn’t going to fly down to miami to be a part of an undercover fbi sting operation to handle what could be rubens’s aurora and just NOT say anything. i was gonna have to ad lib a little” and then he tells the interviewer that when he & the fbi agent got to the hotel while he was examining the painting he started lecturing the other people, first on how badly they had wrapped it, and then about like how it had been painted, the history of it, what the subject was and what she was doing, etc etc, and he was like “i hadn’t taught a class on rubens in 15 years, so for me it was like being back in the classroom except my students couldn’t leave”
at one point during the deal the professor turned to the woman selling it and he said “isn’t this just the most beautiful rubens you’ve ever seen outside of a museum?” (because the fbi had told him earlier that this piece had been stolen from a museum) and THEN he said “where on earth did you get it from?” and the group of people the woman had with her was like taxidermy-fox.png but the woman was like “inheritance” can you IMAGINE the fbi agent about to have a fucking aneurysm when this random guy you’ve brought in just to nod if it’s the right painting not only starts giving an impromptu lecture but then he asks how they got it
So I just went with my buddy while he got a rib tattoo, and they hurt like a lot, so he’s over there grimacing and being a huge manbaby so I just reach over and grab his hand so he can squeeze it because I’m a good person who helps others
And he’s clinging to my hand like it’s a life preserver and I’m being me and talking about nonsense like Grimace from the McDonalds commercials and how R2D2 is always ready to throw hands, and whatever, and the artist keeps glancing over at me and I’m like do your tattoo bro I’ve got my buddy handled
But then I realize he’s like, looking over because he can’t tell if he’s seeing something or not, and I glance down and I see my rainbow scalemail bracelet, and how I’m talking to my buddy all fondly and I’m like stroking his arm like he’s a wounded animal, and right as it clicks in my head the tattoo artist asks in his most nonchalant voice possible, like intentionally bland, I’m just talking about the weather haha what do you mean voice:
“So, are you guys close?”
And my gay ass is over to the side internally screaming because yeah, I am gay, but like this is just me being a good bro and my buddy is COMPLETELY OBLVIOUS TO WHAT IS HAPPENING BECAUSE HE’S A GARBAGE STRAIGHT PERSON AND HE SAYS
“Yeah of course, that’s why I asked him to come”
SO NOW THE TATTOO ARTIST THINKS HE’S RIGHT AND HE HAS A GAY COUPLE GETTING A TATTOO AND MY BUDDY HAS NO IDEA AND I’M AWKWARDLY SITTING HERE LIKE SHOULD I STOP HOLDING HIS HAND??? SHOULD I CORRECT THIS TATTOO ARTIST??? SHOULD I LET MY BUDDY KNOW??? MY GAY ASS DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO HANDLE BEING INCORRECTLY ACCUSED OF BEING GAY, WHAT DO YOU DO
So that tattoo artist is like “Cool man, that’s great. Good for you.”
So then my buddy is like can I get some water, and the guy comes back with one bottle of water and my buddy takes a drink and then hands it to me, and I’m like obviously he has to lay down and needs me to hold his water so I just hold it in my hand, but turns out he was offering me water, so he turns to me and is like Colton, drink some water, and I take a drink and my garbage lizard brain is like “You’re drink sharing in front of the tattoo artist, now he KNOWS he’s right”
So we’re talking about tattoos with the artist and I mention that I’m getting a tattoo in September and my buddy is like “Yeah I’m gonna go and hold HIS hand for that one haha” and the tattoo artist FUCKING SAYS “I mean, I should hope so”
I MEAN, I SHOULD HOPE SO
I MEAN, I SHOULD HOPE SO
AND NO ONE ACTUALLY BROUGHT IT UP. I KNEW WHAT THE TATTOO ARTIST WAS THINKING BUT DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING TO CORRECT HIM. NOW WHEN MY BUDDY GOES BACK AND GETS HIS NEXT TATTOO IN THE FUTURE AND I’M NOT THERE HE’S GOING TO GO “OH WHERE’S YOUR BOYFRIEND”
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