Category Archives: for giggles

turning 1 iz hard werk

today, we salute you dr. leopold marvin, on the anniversary of your birf (according to the SPCA).

here’s to another year of your incessant cries for just one more kibble, your perfectly sweet never ending purrs, your incredible whapability of the most delicate items, your astounding fascination with water, your OCD of cleaning the walls of your box (thank you, buddy) and that awful never-in-the-clear breath.

oh how your mommies love.

baby leopold takes down birdie johnson

cooling his non-existent "jets"

fer yer reading plezure

oh, hai

i iz a 1 year old

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yer kyoot for the day

just what i needed: a good laff. thank you, icanhascheezburger for providing said laffs. now, go about your day, fellow fans of kiduns.

pfsht. pants are for suckers.

spelling iz real hard sometimes

i am without any wise or even wise-cracking thoughts today, so i’m leaving it up to the idiots de la interwebs to entertain us with these epic spelling FAILs. enjoy. (many tattoos are subject to poor spelling, and that, my friends, is a heartbreaking permanent FAIL.)

[all via failblog]

epic-fail-spelling-fail

two wrongs don't make a right.

fail-owned-myspace-your-mine-tattoo-spelling-fail

oh, bless him. he tried so hard to be hardcore.

fail-owned-spelling-fail4

our tax dollars at werk.

fail-owned-tattoo-fail

what would shakespeare think about this hot mess?

fail-owned-motel-weekly-rape-fail1

oh, no. do not want.

laugh it up, giggly mcgiggler.

at my first job out of college in 2002, a coworker–a shiteful, snotty, SMU-grad–once suggested i laughed too much. “you don’t have to laugh at everything you know.” uhh. exqueeze me? laughing is pretty much my m.o. lucky for me, that stoopid biotche quit and someone much more incredible took her place. (hi, tisha! remember when i spilled water all over your keyboard and begged you not to tell on me? good times.)

safe to say, i’m still laughing at damn near everything. the only difference is the outlet for that laughter. back in the day, it was notes passed to a friend. (i love how insane we used to fold those things.) now, it’s emails, text, IM and an influx of social media diarrhea: twitter, facebook, myspace, flickr, blogs…ahhh! head explosion.

i wouldn’t be able to make it through the day without laughing, so here’s hoping you join me in finding these messages laughter-inducing.

an email on coffee highs:

“dude! get it! I’m so high b/c I got up early to dry my hair, and downed like 3 cups. holy moly… I could whittle a whole tree into a thousand tiny cats in like under 5 minutes. it would just be a cloud of sawdust. haha.”

an email on curing insomnia:

“i was going to recommend a shot or two before bed……since you are a seasoned drinker, maybe three or four”

(damn, girl called me a “seasoned drinker.” ouch.)

a dreamy email:

person 1: “I love trying to re-start a dream. I had dream after dream after dream 2 nights ago about Sara (T-n-S).”

person 2: “Lately it’s been pants around ankles and desktops. HAHAHAHA. omg. I’m such a d-bag.”

an email on face-meets-sign:

“oh and i heard you walked into a street sign! hahaha”

an interesting IM:

“yes, i am adorable. much more than an anal tulip.”

an IM on power tools:

“pole saw. domestical testicles! go mama.”

a couple of texts that need no explanation:

“My trainer hooked up with a milf with 3 kids last night lol”

“haha! i ripped a 7-seconder under the bench press!”

twitter quip:

“I love Subway but I hate smelling like it.”

p.s. $5 to whomever guesses which of these are c/o hizzle. (no, hizzle. you can’t play, even though you could probably use the extra money after incurring your recent injury.)

“i’m a rock…”

i’m about to share something with you so significant, so mind blowing, so complete with utter ridiculousness and sheer hilarity, you should just prepare yeselves to never be the same again. hold onto your knickers, kids. here we go. (i’m already sensing skepticism from you, but just trust me.)

what do you get when you cross rainbows and sparkles and magic and rocks? a gay boy’s giant wish for “a planet full of unicorns,” obvy.

[episode 1: “this ambrosia salad is good, cadillac.”]

[episode 2: “i’m the cry baby troll.”]

[episode 3: “i’m going to turn into a bike and run him over.”]

[episode 4: “thank you, rock.”]

yes, there are more. go forth and enjoy them all here and here.

[i realize these cartoons are years old. so what? they’ve brought unbridled joy to myself and hizzle for quite some time. and i figgered the possibility exists that some of you may have actually never seen–or been subjected to–the delight of feathers, cadillac and tom cruise. semantics aside, you can thank me later for implanting “planet unicorn, heeyy…” into your brain for the remainder of today.]

from hizzle with love

when hizzle was around, my office desk was often littered with love and laughter via post-it notes. never was there a thought too telling, a joke too raunchy–if i was away, she left me notes. lots of notes. i saved so many, as did she save many of mine. we need to put these babies together and collaborate on a book of sorts. add that to our world takeover list of ideas swirling around in our heads.

PB020745

leo's just waiting for me to turn around so he can whap these off the table.

PB020749

it's true i was sleepy. that illustrated kidun was pre-leo. we miss you, sy.

PB020753

we filled out that naughty puzzle on a napkin during a booze-filled flight to j-ville. (hahaha, labia.)

PB020743

there they are in all their glory. can you guess my favorite?

since she’s been gone, others have repeated the love with some success. i accumulated a few gems, but soon, the desk notes were less and less, and then there were none. in fact, i think the last “note” on my desk was in the form of a marked-up e-mail for me to review. sad, sad.

wild wine

tonight, i tagged along with carey and robby to our beloved wilted mall for the viewing of where the wild things are. we giggled, sighed, oohed, awed, shed a few tears* and sipped (ok, DRANK) “a dry red” wine out of smuggled-in thermoses, via carey’s giant brown bag. for those of you on-the-fence, see this movie. no, really. do it. i can’t believe you’d be disappointed, especially if you were as in love with this book as i. it’s so beautiful in its loneliness. so real in its love. and just so perfect in every way.

the only snafu (if you can even call it that), involved a random person behind us who took a flash picture with a disposable camera. carey and i gave each other a quick, “wtf” glance, giggled, shrugged and got sucked right back into the movie. thank goodness it wasn’t during the scene with the kidun. if i missed seeing that, i might have had to go all cray “max” on them.

my favorite parts, in no particular order:

1. max tugging on his mom’s pantyhose.

2. the progression of grime on the wolf suit.

3. the sleeping pile. despite the possible stench, i wanted to be max in the middle of that softness.

4. alexander the goat’s longing to be taken seriously.

5. carol’s unabashed passion.

6. ira’s boobies.

7. KW’s fan-fan.

8. judith’s one liners.

9. douglas’s arm getting replaced by a twig.

10. KW’s final quote: “please don’t go. i’ll eat you up, i love you so.”

*i’m pretty sure the tears only came from carey and myself. robby was too focused on not spilling the wine.