From You Life to you:
gobble, y’all
Category Archives: Holidays
Halloween haunting, the You Life edition
Since funemployment, I recently moved out of the delightful shitbox that I formerly called, “home.” It was a hard readjustment and a tearful farewell to all of the things I had gotten so used to: no heat, questionable fire safety, a garbage fridge. But, I have new things to look forward to now. One of these things I was affectionately referring to as “homeless’ing,” where I would delight in staying on friends’ couches.
Since I am the luckiest of ladies, two of my friends granted me a headquarters where I might unpack my cat knickknacks on a less transient basis.
But just like bad credit and scabies follows a person, I have a very special spectral visitor.
What’s that?!
No. It can’t be. There is no possible way that this can what I think it is. Because what I think it is a misplaced crock pot filled with poisonous old food. I remember something like this; something dark, and evil, and filled with some sort of chili…
No!
My trash-fridge is my own personal version of a Stephen King novel. Because upon closer inspection it seems like trash-fridge chili is following me. Haunting me…
Oh come on
I might have created a sentient being in trash-fridge. And I feel like I’m not paranoid in saying that the ghost of it is trying to murder me. IT’S THE CHILI OF THE UNDEAD!
Happy Halloween, all!
Filed under apartment, cooking, food, Holidays, horrifying, science! technology!, zombies
Another day, yet also another year of writing You Life
I am an old person today. And to remind me where my priorities have laid for the last many years, my best friend emailed me to remind me about friendship and love:
Ahh yes, it’s you my old friend
And again, see you later on tonight Jack Daniel’s.
Welcome to this apartment
I found the perfect welcoming sign to hang on my door to the apartment. If my neighbors weren’t concerned and confused by this
I can only imagine how they feel about this:
despite being a lady, he insists on calling me “dad”
And the boy that I am referring to?
My bouncing baby cat-son.
Happy Father’s Day, ya’ll. And happy Father’s Day to me, Liono calls me “Dad” after all.
A very special You Life: George’s eulogy.
Yesterday, on Christmas, I spent an entire day on the train traveling back to my apartment. I purchased myself some holiday PBRs and got ready to have a full blown solo Christmas pity party. All of my intentions were focused on feeling totally sorry for myself because I was spending Christmas alone. However, George had other plans.
His plan?
Dying
This is exactly how he wanted to go, on Christmas: a day usually reserved for family, and happiness, and joy. Those are all of the things that he hates and stands against. Misery? Pain? Mournful tunes on the banjo? The last chapter of Oil? Ruining gift giving holidays? George knew that those were the real simple pleasures in life.
And, obviously, hating you. That was another of his favorite things.
Except, of course, there is more pleasure in dying. So, after a hundred and fifty thousand years of life George went to meet him maker.
I think we all know who George’s maker is
And I, for one, will miss the ever loving shit out of that miserable cranky cat bastard. And, while his cold dead body rests in the space heater box in my living room while I am at work (HE WOULD HAVE WANTED IT THAT WAY DON’T JUDGE ME), later on I will be memorializing him in the best way possible: playing The Ballad of Georgie on the ukulele and whiskey drankin’.
Bye, littlest evil.
Holiday Hell Tour: A Molesty Santa
There are certain things that are sacred and unjoking in my [you] life and those are the traditions I have with my closest mates. For the last ten years we have celebrated two things: our own (un PC named) version of Thanksgiving ( see: youfood for the full update), and the other thing is our annual photo with Santa.
Look at those fly people
During the holidays tradition is important.
And one part of this holiday tradition is how much bad touching Santa seems to get away with when I sit on his lap.
In the past it was always just a joke pertaining to the fact that due to my size I would have to be the one perched on Santa’s lap. It was a perfect set up for a joke.
However this year Santa amped up his perv game. When I went to sit on his lap it seemed like awkward quarters, what with so many people flanking us. I ended up plopping onto Mrs. Klaus’s lap. So I popped up off her diminutive frame, but Santa full on grabbed my hips to “re-adjust me” on top his lap. And on the way down onto the holiday lap, Santa got a handful of my ass.
He has his hand on my freaking hip in this shot. Damn you, Santa!
So, Santa is kind of a douche bag.
Happy holidays from You Life (and Bear Ambulance) to you
Filed under cranky, friends, Holidays, horrifying
In celebration of more than one holiday at once
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
You life is not so great 