Toilet
Brother 2: I found the perfect birthday present for Cousin J. A super toilet.
Me: He wants a toilet for his birthday??
Brother 2: He told me, he's sick of plunging. It would be the perfect present.
Brother 2: I found the perfect birthday present for Cousin J. A super toilet.
Me: He wants a toilet for his birthday??
Brother 2: He told me, he's sick of plunging. It would be the perfect present.
Posted by Vanessa at 8:53 AM 0 comments
Dad: If you're going to belch, you might as well make it disgusting.
Posted by Vanessa at 8:35 AM 1 comments
Mom: I think I need to upgrade you.
Dad: Ok. If you need the original me, I'll be in Montana.
Mom: I wouldn't go all the way to Montana to get you. I don't think I like Montanta.
Posted by Vanessa at 8:41 AM 0 comments
Dad: Whoa!!
Me: What?
Dad: That calendar has one of the same pictures as the girly calendar I made a couple years ago!!
Me: You made a girly calendar?
Dad: Yeah. No one sent me one, so I cut out pictures from the magazines and glued them into the scenic calendar. It was kinda hard to get the perspective right, and to find the right sized pictures. I still haven't gotten a girly calendar this year, I need to get one for the shop.
Me: That is not in my job description.
Posted by Vanessa at 8:54 AM 0 comments
Buddy, our golden retriever, is almost 12 years old, and gets gunk in his eyes that we have to clean out.
Mom (talking to the dog): This is so disgusting. Your eyes are so gross. You have poop eyes.
Posted by Vanessa at 8:38 AM 1 comments
I have a box turtle named Carmine. Brother 1 got him for me for Christmas. Today, it was really nice outside, so I let him run around the backyard (basically digging a hole in the mud and sitting in it for hours). Brother 2 was mowing the lawn, so I had to bring Carmine up on the deck so he wouldn't get run over.
Dad: Did Brother 2 hit your turtle with the lawn mower??
5 minutes later...
Mom: Did Carmine get hit? That would be gross, turtle guts shooting all over the lawn!
My family is nice.
Posted by Vanessa at 8:04 PM 1 comments
Brother 2: I almost died last night. I farted under the blanket, and then I rolled over and the smell escaped. It smelled like taquitos.
Posted by Vanessa at 11:15 AM 0 comments
Brother 1 is rewriting the lyrics to Fergelicious, in which he implies that she is, in reality, a transvestite.
Brother 1: I put the boys on rock rock.... what the hell does that mean anyway?
I'm running down the block, rubbing on my cock. I'm Fergelicious
You don't know what I got, I'm Fergelicious.
(He's not finished yet... one idea is to rhyme Promiscuous with "fist this"... I'll keep you all updated)
Posted by Vanessa at 8:43 AM 0 comments
Brother 1: I hate you.
Me: Why?
Brother 1: 'Cause you haven't gotten me Flaming Hot Cheetos yet.
Posted by Vanessa at 9:09 AM 1 comments
Dad: What are you doing?
Me: Making a list of things I need to pack for my vacation.
Dad: Write me on that list. You can bring me with.
Me: You can come if you want.
Dad: No... this is your vacation, you need to take a vacation by yourself, so this summer when we drive to Montana and your brothers and mother are annoying you, I can say, you already got a vacation. I only get one vacation and am lucky I get that. Do you know why?
Me: Why?
Dad: No rest for the wicked!!
Posted by Vanessa at 10:43 AM 0 comments
Dad (with a terrible southern accent): Have you seen my glasses? I think I might have dropped them in the crawdad pond.
I pick them up off the seat of the fork truck.
Me: Found them!
Dad: The fork truck stole them. Mother fucker.
*I'm on vacation in Virginia, so I won't be posting much this week.
Posted by Vanessa at 7:32 PM 0 comments
Me: It smells like bananas in here.
Dad (sniffing): I don't smell anything.
Me: It's not just the office, it smells even more like bananas out in the shop.
Dad: It was probably the Easter Monkeys taking over last night.
Posted by Vanessa at 8:25 AM 1 comments
Brother 1 has a bit of a love trapezoid going on w/ 2 roommates and a jealous ex-girlfriend. He was mad at me for calling 'cause he had been getting girl freaking out calls all afternoon.
Brother 1 (in his best announcer voice): Little do they know, Brother 1 doesn't give a fuck.
Posted by Vanessa at 1:13 PM 0 comments
Dad: People keep asking me if we're going to be working on Friday.
Me: What's Friday?
Dad: Good Friday. I keep saying, Good Friday is not a holiday. We didn't take off for Hanukkah or Kwanzaa or Martin Luther King Jr.'s birthday*. We are patriotic mother fuckers. We believe in separation of church and state.
*not quite sure why Martin Luther King Jr.'s b-day is lumped with those...
Posted by Vanessa at 8:36 AM 0 comments
Dad: I am going to throw this apple right at your forehead... and watch while it explodes into a million pieces... and you fall to the floor like a sack of bricks.
Replace apple with whatever he's holding in his hand at the time (gear, sandwich, rock, brownie, shoe and glasses have all been featured). I've heard variations on this sentence about 20 times in the past few days.
Posted by Vanessa at 8:37 AM 1 comments
Me: You've been really violent lately.
Dad: Yes, I have. I think because it's spring. Spring makes me more violent than usual.
Posted by Vanessa at 9:01 AM 1 comments