D2U2

the bff and i have patented the following acronym: d2u2--- meaning dull, dim, and utterly unworthy. we've sadly had our fair share of encounters with these characters, and the madness needs to stop. no, really. 

in an effort to fix this (and feed into our idealistically impossible high standards) we've come up with the following quiz. answer at your own risk.

ARE YOU WORTHY:

1. what is a sonnet?

2. fill in the blank: catcher in the ___

3. who is not a real housewife; the countess, bethenny, virginia woolf? 

4. who is the host of jeopardy?

5. pick two: 'your/you're going to have to wait for me over they're/there/their.'

if you can't answer any/all of these correctly you are most definitely unworthy. you really have no reason to live. 

poorhouse

Third pair of designer shoes in two weeks. 

At least they were on sale? 

Uncomfortably familiar

...although college was about a month and a half ago, so it might not be totally dire yet. (via)

b-f-f

Ever since Will&Grace made it socially acceptable to have a gay man in your pocket at all times I've wanted one. It's true. Someone to curse carbs and drag my ass to spin, someone who will tell me it's okay to spend $500 or more on shoes and someone who'll have no problem telling me that no matter how hard I try I'll never pull off green.

Instead of wonder gay husband I got Dusty. He claims that the gay was beaten out of him when he was 4, but some of the more convincing traits remain. Appreciation for good food, art, and the ability to spend 6 hours with 5 girls watching She's The Man and eating ice cream cake. No, really. 

The thing about Dusty is that he's involved in the struggle. Not the struggle to survive, make ends meat or make it through each day but the struggle to be a hipster. No matter what he does his hair isn't quite dishevelled enough, his t-shirts don't have the right amount of irony and since he's half giant, half boy the skinny leg colored pants just look like man-pris on him. 

And that's where the story begins. 

oh, right

So apparently I've been derelict in my duties, according to the gentle reminder I received in my inbox at some ungodly hour last night:

dear jennifer liu

i am writing this to inform you of your participation in the joint blog THE AIM BOOTY CALL. get on it, beezy.


sincerely,


[redacted]

I'll post after I go look "beezy" up on Urban Dictionary.

the adventures of muss and dusty.

Wednesday Night Family Dinner as follows:

Mama O'Brien made stuffed shells and bruschetta. She ate soup. Don't ask. Cyndy forgot we had a family dinner and serenaded herself as she made easy mac, ate it alone and consoled her unemployed self with charlie rose and the other likely news suspects. 

I decided it was necessary to keep a written record of the more memorable things that were said. I also had to wrestle my notebook back from Dusty after he forgot that he got mad and stole it from me. He's only on his third bottle of wine.

Yes, I said bottle. He's a rather large man.*

Anyway. Highlights from the night:

Muss: Mandis kid is gonna come out of the womb with jazz hands.

Dusty: I wanna be there. I mean...

Mandi: YOU WANNA WATCH ME HAVE A BABY?

--

Muss: ET Scared the shit out of me.

Dusty: it made me hate the government; it made me a republican. 

--

Muss: (whisper) I've never seen star wars.

Dusty: kill yourself.

--

Dusty: you can't get a following being a prophet anumore. it has to be something with spaceships.

I really think I'm going to cry my eyes out when I have to move out of this apartment. Especially since I'm pretty sure my future serious grad student roommate won't come home at 2 AM, stumble into my room and threaten to light our fourth roommates clothes on fire in pursuit of a luxurious room. But that's a story for another time. 

*almost hagrid like, but the dominance of the giant gene is a controversial topic. like abortion, or unicorns.