Resolved; or To Kill A Bird
I drank one whole glass of water yesterday, so my resolution to drink more water has been fulfilled.
Next!
I talked to my mom and a couple of friends who I hadn’t spoken with in a while.
Done.
Ryan, one of my old comedy buddies, who was actually with me on the night that the boyfriend and I met; (sadly, I'm pretty sure I ended up ditching him later that evening so Evan and I could go hang out); and my friend Russ from Houston called to wish me a happy new year. He was there at the very beginning of my stand-up career. (Snort, career, like I’m making money at it now.) He was in the audience when I competed in the Houston’s Funniest Person contest in May of 2002. I had been doing stand-up for all of three months at that point. After seeing me a few years later, he was amazed at my progress. Hell, so was I. Oh, and he's also the guy who my ex-husband swears I was having an affair with. Nope. He was dating my married next door neighbor. Yes, my life was a soap opera.
Moving on...
Spent some time with The Teen last nite.
Booyah.
Three resolutions in one nite! I’m on a roll.
She’ll be turning 18 on January 20th. I doubt she’ll want to spend her birthday with me, but I did invite them to the Comedy Sportz show. My treat, of course. It’s early enough, she could still go hang out with her friends afterward.
Conversations with my mother are a little nutty. Partly because she’s nuts, and partly because she spends half of the time yelling at her bird. She’s had this parrot for, well, forever. To give you an idea of how old he is – his name is Mork. Yeah, there used to be a Mindy too, but she flew away many years ago. She got him in the 70’s, and I swear he will outlive us all.
Mork is a cranky old thing, not unlike my mother. He hates it when she talks on the phone, so he makes as much noise as he can muster, and it makes her sound like she has Turrets syndrome. Our conversations go something like this:
Me: “Hey mom, how are you?”
Mom: “I’m ok. Just got home from work and I was getting ready to…SHUT UP YOU BASTARD….make me something to eat…”
Me: “Oh, ok then. What are you having for dinner?”
Mom: “I don’t know, I think I’ll just have a sandwich…I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL KILL YOU IF YOU DON’T SHUT UP….maybe some ham, I got some of that thin sliced stuff from the deli…YOU STUPID FUCKER, I SAID SHUT UP…”
Me: “Uh, well, that sounds good.”
Mom: “Yeah, I’m too tired to cook. When are you bringing the kids…..I HATE YOU, I WILL RIP OFF YOUR BEAK AND TURN YOU INTO SOUP…over to visit?”
Me: “I don’t know, mom. Maybe when your bird is dead.”
Next!
I talked to my mom and a couple of friends who I hadn’t spoken with in a while.
Done.
Ryan, one of my old comedy buddies, who was actually with me on the night that the boyfriend and I met; (sadly, I'm pretty sure I ended up ditching him later that evening so Evan and I could go hang out); and my friend Russ from Houston called to wish me a happy new year. He was there at the very beginning of my stand-up career. (Snort, career, like I’m making money at it now.) He was in the audience when I competed in the Houston’s Funniest Person contest in May of 2002. I had been doing stand-up for all of three months at that point. After seeing me a few years later, he was amazed at my progress. Hell, so was I. Oh, and he's also the guy who my ex-husband swears I was having an affair with. Nope. He was dating my married next door neighbor. Yes, my life was a soap opera.
Moving on...
Spent some time with The Teen last nite.
Booyah.
Three resolutions in one nite! I’m on a roll.
She’ll be turning 18 on January 20th. I doubt she’ll want to spend her birthday with me, but I did invite them to the Comedy Sportz show. My treat, of course. It’s early enough, she could still go hang out with her friends afterward.
Conversations with my mother are a little nutty. Partly because she’s nuts, and partly because she spends half of the time yelling at her bird. She’s had this parrot for, well, forever. To give you an idea of how old he is – his name is Mork. Yeah, there used to be a Mindy too, but she flew away many years ago. She got him in the 70’s, and I swear he will outlive us all.
Mork is a cranky old thing, not unlike my mother. He hates it when she talks on the phone, so he makes as much noise as he can muster, and it makes her sound like she has Turrets syndrome. Our conversations go something like this:
Me: “Hey mom, how are you?”
Mom: “I’m ok. Just got home from work and I was getting ready to…SHUT UP YOU BASTARD….make me something to eat…”
Me: “Oh, ok then. What are you having for dinner?”
Mom: “I don’t know, I think I’ll just have a sandwich…I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL KILL YOU IF YOU DON’T SHUT UP….maybe some ham, I got some of that thin sliced stuff from the deli…YOU STUPID FUCKER, I SAID SHUT UP…”
Me: “Uh, well, that sounds good.”
Mom: “Yeah, I’m too tired to cook. When are you bringing the kids…..I HATE YOU, I WILL RIP OFF YOUR BEAK AND TURN YOU INTO SOUP…over to visit?”
Me: “I don’t know, mom. Maybe when your bird is dead.”
Labels: dead birds, PETA
posted by Jenn at
9:44 AM
2 Comments:
YOU just made me laugh in a very unfeminine way that sounded like "snurfle!" and it woke up the cat.
Awesome.
Awesome! I think I made a similar sound as I was typing it at my desk. It's fun to snort at the office!
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home