a year's supply of stephard's pie

Sometimes I do things like look up my name on UrbanDictionary to see what it really means. Here is one meaning I hadn’t known about:

Stephanie n.

A term used to refer to stereotypical sorority girls.

On the weekend, all the college bars are filled with Stephanies.

Onto Steph:

Steph, n.

1. A word used to describe a girl who's mother you have slept with. It is used as a slur if the mother in question gave you an infection and/or AIDS.

2. Also a term used to describe a homo, i.e., a girl who is partial to pussy.

Well, I never! Oh I see they have an entry for Stephany.

Stephany, n.

The Boobular One, that is, the girl with big boobs

That Stephany over there is almost a double E

What, Stephard’s Pie?

Stephard’s Pie, n.

Applies to any hot girl named steph's pussy

Last night i had 4 shots of wieser's and a big slice of stephard's pie.

I think I like this one better.

Stephaniee, n.

The most amazingest person ever.

Stef, v.

To stef a bowl (of weed) is to basically use it as a microphone and instead of hitting it, you just hold it and talk and talk and talk...

"come on man, quit stefing the bowl and hit it already"

Then I looked up Drury

Drury, n.
1. A mayonnaise guzzling whore

i totally piped drury last night, she totally guzzuled my mayonaise

2. Usually a figure who is imbreaded or retarted. Also somebody who is mentally insane and is a sadistic homosexual nymphomaniac. A Person or Thing who is molded in shape of a spermspermhead or non human creature. Moves in a slimery manner just like a sperm

"my god that hideous thing looks like a Drury!!!"

Non-sequitur. Bobby in San Francisco (we call him Fun Bobby) came up with a new series inspired by the With You Always phenomenon. (drawings of white European Jesus hanging out with people as they go about their bidness) Here is one of my favorites, Jesus With The Dentist.



Bobby’s new series idea is called “Hey, Stop That.” His first picture was of a prostitute talking to someone in a TransAm, and Jesus was looking disapprovingly on with a big “Hey, Stop That!” in the With You Always font. None of us can find it now and that makes me sad, but he sent me this one today:



I love McSweeney’s reviews of new food! Sometimes I submit them and they are returned. Oh well. Here is one for Gatorade A.M. (“Finally, someone has engineered an athletic drink for people like me, Athletes of Sleep—people for whom it is less physically taxing to be awake than asleep.”)

weiner nougat!

This morning while J was at kindergarden I took R to pick out baby pumpkins and then Starbucks. We sat in an armchair streaked and matted with espresso and the sun streamed in and was so warm on our heads (I love that) and she ate madeleines and drank apple juice and did little dances.

Last night was so fun, we got to go out! Our friend came up to do some comedy thing and also mc a gig in Ballard so we went. When we got there N (the one we went to see) said he had a present for me from Simone and I opened it and it was two pieces of WEINER NOUGAT! Some kind of Finnish chocolate that she got from being in a chocolate club. I cackled with delight over the word weiner and this guy JP said "Um, how old are you?" I said something about how he's the one who wrote an incredibly mature and tasteful song called Paul McCartney’s Penis and he’d better just hush. The people came backstage to tell N what to say onstage and they wanted him to introduce a burlesque show thingy. I hadn't expected burlesqueness. Then a girl wearing only pasties and a g-string walked backstage and whenI I first saw her I gasped really loudly and everyone thought that was sooo funny. I told N when he was introducing her he should say "Her daddy issues are almost as big as her vagina."
Then the burlesqueness started and was a preview to the heavy metal bands that were going to be on and it was all just terrible and we wanted to leave including N but he had to stay and work, he was soo hilarious though, really in fine form and kept saying about the heavy metal bands "These fine young gentlemen are going to come up onstage and crap on porcelain plates.”
This really drunk guy was up front heckling N and I was surprised N hadn't thrown water on him yet. When another burlesque hobag came on the drunk guy ambled back near us and said he had to lean on the wall. He talked about how the girl onstage had a remarkable amount of back fat. The next girl onstage was wearing a pink gorilla costume and fixing to strip it off or something, it was ri-damn-diculous. Backstage the heshers were wearing stretch pants and Hot Topic belts and practicing strumming in front of the mirror. Gay! N talked about how great his job was that he could get paid for making fun of them. N kept saying that a Better Than Ezra cover band from Boise was about to come on and play some fine, fine songs. He told about 11 Red Hot Chili Peppers jokes in a row, really tearing them apart, and these girls down front could not understand it, one said "I love Flea!" and then the left. One girl wearing vinyl devil horns and a codpiece said "Bring out the bands! Get off stage!" and N said "Why don't you come up here with your three nipples?" Someone said "I want my money back" (it was a free show) and Neil said "You can have your money back, how about I take zero dollars and zero cents and load it into a gun and discharge it into your skull?"
Oh, and there were loads of people dressed like zombies. People in ghoul makeup. Fat chicks making out. I do not get the zombie subculture just like I don't get the hobbit thing. Then we were chased from the dressing room so they could do coke or whatever, N said they were doing ginko balboa. JP was really mad that they made us leave, he said he'd never seen that. What’s funnier is that we all obeyed. So we went to Hattie's without N to escape the zombies. JP said to me “Are you from the south? I can tell.” He guessed Alabama, interesting.
At about 1 am N said "Okay, after I introduce these next guys we're heading straight out" and we totally did. It was Napalm Death-sounding music. I am getting old because I used to love that and now it makes me want to scream.
...And I think that's all.

ha ha

Things that will destroy my heterosexual marriage long before gay marriage ever will.

david's broken bones story

My friend Megan has a 4 yr old named Gwen and lately Gwen is obsessed with bones. Megan has gotten tired of making up bones stories for every bedtime story so she asked David to make up one for her, and here is what he wrote.

The Mystery of Frank’s Broken Bones

by David Drury

Frank was fed up. Food had nothing to do with it. Frank was a man. Frank was mostly a sometimes sad man. He had bad luck. Frank broke a bone almost every single day.

When he went bowling, he broke his back. Oof!

When he went to Boston, he fractured his fibia. Ouch!

When he boiled turnips, his ankle snapped like a rubber band and dangled at the end of his leg. Darn!

Frank even broke a bone when he blew his nose. But not his nose bone, it was the tiniest bone in his tiniest toe. Who would have guessed?

“What a wimpy wimp you are,” said Frank’s friend.

“You have twigs for bones” said Frank’s other friend. “I don’t even want to shake your hand. It might snap right off.”

“These friendships are really paying dividends,” said Frank.

But frankly, frank was not a weak man. He could run without breaking any bones. He could jump without breaking any bones. He could even play full contact ice hockey with no helmet without breaking any bones. The doctors were baffled. A team of doctors shined lights in his eyes and ears, took x-rays, gave him special gum to chew, and tapped Frank all over with a tiny rubber mallet for days and days.

“I can’t figure it out,” the chief doctor said, throwing his hands in the air. “Your bones look strong to me.”

“What does that mean?” asked Frank, chewing his gum.

“It means I am going next door to see the eye doctor. Goodbye.”

Frank Blew a Bubble and both his arms broke.

Even with two casts on his newly broken arms, Frank carefully kept a journal to see if he could figure out why he was always breaking his bones. See if you can help him solve the mystery of the breaking bones.

Day one: Fed the cat (no bones broke), washed the dishes (no bones broke), but when I Baked a pie I broke my thigh. Crunch! Do you know why Frank’s bone broke?

Day two. Fluffed the pillows (no bones broke). Made a call (no bones broke), but when I Bounced a Ball I cracked my collar bone and shattered my jaw (two broken bones). Tweak! Mangle! Do you know why Frank’s bones broke?

Day three: watched cartoons (no bones broke). Flew a kite (no bones broke). But when I Brought a Big Bargain Box of Baked Bread and Bagels to Betty Bonner in the Blue house down Block I cracked three fingers, snapped four ribs, split open my skull, shattered my kneecap, splintered my elbow, and severed my spine (that’s eleven broken bones). Eek! Ouch! Twist! Bungle! Snap! Crackle! Pop!

“That’s it!” said Frank, smiling through the pain of eleven simultaneous broken bones “Could it be,” (twitch, moan) “that every time I do something that begins with the letter B, I break a bone? And if I do two things that begin with the letter B I break two bones? Yes that is it. I will simply avoid doing anything that starts with that horrible wretched troublesome letter B.”

Just then the mailman Joe came by.

“Are you okay Frank?”

“Yes. I am wonderful. Got mail for me?”

“Oh yes a big stack. Here you go.”

“Wow this is a big stack,” said Frank. “I wonder where it is all from.”

“Actually,” said the mailman with a playful laugh,” it’s Bills. It’s Big Bills. I guess you are going to be spending the rest of the day paying Big Broken Bone Bills from Bunches of Big hospitals and the Best Breed of Brave Bone doctors who Bandaged and Braced your Broken Bones, as well as settling the Burgeoning Bank Bills from the Bank of Battle Bluff (at Broadway and Bell) for all the Buckets of Bucks you Borrowed to Budget for the other Bunches of Big hospitals and Bevy of Brave Bone Doctors to Bandage and Brace your Bowed Blistering Bloated Buttery Bones. Oh, but there is also some good news. A coupon for a free Bacon Bratwurst Burger or Beefy Burrito at Big Brad Buckley’s Burrito and Burger Bar with purchase of another Bacon Bratwurst Burger or Beefy Burrito. You’re going to want to use that right away. It’s a Bargain, wouldn’t you say.”

Frank’s bones all splintered, crackled and disintegrated at once into a fine white powder, leaving him a floppy puddle of skin and hair at the mailman’s feet.

“Oh darn,” said Frank.


The end.

how to bug me

Okay, these phrases really bug me and I hear them all the time. Does anyone else not like it when people say

1. "It is what it is"

2. "Comfortable in your own skin"

There are more but I can’t member right now. I feel bitchy even bringing this up but hey. Oh, there’s something everyone says around here about the fog/haze in the morning, people love to say “it’ll burn off.” People who say this seem pleased with themselves. “All of this will burn off.” Nails on a blackboard!

Judah has been saying he has a bully at school. Actually, two - one on the bus and one "in the cafeteria." This concerns us like crazy and we said "tell Mrs. Ridge" (his teacher) and he rolled his eyes and said "I am TOTALLY not going to tell Mrs. Ridge." Well, yesterday he said "The bully shoved me and I shoved him back and he told the princiapal and my bully got in trouble! The principal didn't say any-fing to me!" We said "why's that?" and Judah said "Because he's smart." Oh! I hate a bully. I hope Judah pounds him in to the ground. Judah is tough, and kind of gigantic. That boy better watch out.

This morning Adam Carolla was talking about The Dog Whisperer and he said “I need to have a show called The Cat Yeller. I go to people’s houses and yell at their cats for them. It would be satisfying. I think that would be a ratings bonanza.”

I keep having to do work, and that is bothering me.

heaven's bakery is cooking something good for you, sister!

I wonder why I think this is so hilarious. Probably because I'm so mature.

sommaren med monika

I had to call tech support today and it went like this-

Tech guy: "I need to get into your account. What's your username?"
Me: "My first name."
Tech guy: "Okay, what's your password?"
Me: "Um...weiner."
Tech guy: "What?"
Me: [wincing] "WEINER."
Tech guy: "..."

I've changed my password now.

I felt dumb again when I had to admit to the doctor that I gave myself whiplash from coughing. But I got some percocet out of it. Percocet party at my house!

My friend Lauren's band is on the new show Next Great American Band and it starts tonight. Her band is called Rocket and I already know the outcome and feel so sneaky but I'm not supposed to tell. Mystery, it's not just the name of Spongebob's seahorse!