“look, jesse owen”
—jesse, upon seeing a picture of white jesse eisenberg (via flyinghellfish)
March 2012
Things they found while unclogging our toilet for the 12th time in nine months:
- a toothbrush
Reasons my roommate is convinced the toilet clogs up all the time:
- I flush my tampons down the toilet and it only clogs up when I’m on my period
People don’t have 12 periods in 9 months and she only knows I’m on my period when she goes to throw something away and see a tampon in the trash (not the toilet) that’s not hers.
Looking for a car, found a 1920’s player piano for $1,000 instead.
Gettin’ out the check book.
“Do you want a walnut? Or a pecan? Oh no, these are walnuts. I’m going to crack one. I like pecans, though. When I was little my grandmother had a pecan tree. We used to go out into the yard and pick them off the tree. It was fun. You just pick them off the ground and crack them. Then my grandmother made pie. I’m not going to make pie.”
—and then she put the walnuts away and got out some salty and sweet peanuts
I was making a post about something ridiculous my mother said, but I had to stop, open another tumblr tab, and make a shorter post about something even more ridiculous that she just said.
She also just asked me if blogs were hard to make because she wanted to make a blog filled with her opinion on tv shows.
“I don’t think serial killers go to heaven, although maybe they do… Maybe once they die, they’re not serial killers anymore.”
—my mother, while watching Criminal Minds
“You should have got that bread you got that one time- that white bread.”
—so, I worked a ten hour shift in toon lagoon yesterday
“You never hang out with me… Your hair looks terrible by the way- I hope you didn’t go out in public like that. Did you? Oh, thank god.”
—my charming mother, greeting me as I got home
I’ve decided to clean my mom’s disgusting house as a thank you for letting me stay here and use her car. Started with the kitchen 20 minutes ago and already regretting it. At least there are no longer clumps of hair, a sink full of dirty dishes and pieces of onion and garlic, in this room at least.
“Why are you looking at me like I’m the crazy one? I think it’s you two who are the crazy ones.”
—my mom, to our dogs
“So, I was angry about that, but then I ate my sub.”
—mom
There’s a bowl of peanut shells on my mom’s desk. There’s some weird rustling coming from inside it. I wonder how much of the house I could clean this week, assuming they don’t call me in for more shifts.
