It’s really easy to let things slip your attention when you live in a glorified shanty town of an apartment, resplendent with kitties.
So it was awesomely kind of Facebook to remind me of this:
How could I have been so neglectful toward my “hubby.”
I can’t imagine what I am searching online that continuously leads Facebook to believe that I am married with a husband I love, and not a cat-obsessed spinster that spent last night drinking cheap beer and reading comics.
Unless they were, of course, referring to this husband:
Since I can’t get a husband, I’ll just get some cats. My relationship with them is similar to a legally binding contract that tells my friends, family, and whatever God that one chooses to believe in that we will love and cherish one another until the other dies. Except with my cat husband he agrees to love and cherish me until I die in my sleep and he eats my face for survival.
It’s high time for an anniversary edition of You Life, but since this just occurred to me and I missed the date by four months I guess this is just a retrospect.
You Life started with an instructional guide on how to devastate some PBRs and then paint a kitchen table. Memories
And to celebrate that momentous occasion in the old apartment I’ve unearthed some gems
That is an omnipresent specter presiding over the battle of zombies vs unicorns
The glory that was the kitchen – with the masterpiece center stage
A better view of the unicorn side, before the 6th grade notebook tagging joined the battle
Clear view of the zombie side. That zombie has a bloody unicorn tail in his palm
But I feel strongly that the unicorns prevailed
Happy anniversary, You Life!
Well hello. Are you familiar with this masterpiece of a music video?
Are you familiar with this beverage?
If you mix these two things for several hours and happen to be me, you will get this as a result:
I was going to write more…but I think that’s enough.
Oh actually, there is more. I am wearing the same “outfit” from this post:
It should come as no surprise, give my penchant for Napoleon complex like antics, that I am short. Super short. Really fucking small.
five foot shawty assassin
And when you are this damn small, with a habit to get into so much trouble, it’s essential that you learn how to defend yourself when the going gets hostile. My method, since childhood, has been emulation of the moves of professional wrestlers.
I’ve been to two professional wrestling events since my childhood – I wish this was a joke, but that is a Bret Hart shirt from the Holiday Hell Tour in the early 90s. Eat it hipsters and long for my un-ironic ironic WWF swag
So, if you are feeling, say, threatened on your birthday, what should you do? Um…the Million Dollar Dream. Obviously. And you should do this after drinking several pints of home brew outside of bar- unwashed, following a Kool & the Gang sing-a-long.
Get your back up off the wall, do wrestling moves, come on!
Now you can defend yourself!
There are times when it isn’t enough to celebrate just one holiday at one time. So when Cinco de Mayo and Star Wars day are back to back it just seems more appropriate to meld them together:
Happy Cinco de Star Wars