But Stick With Me, My Story Gets Better.
So last week, this conversation happened between me and the tabby. You know, the interesting one.
Onyx: [jumps up on the dishwasher to get to the kitchen window, finds it's closed, and turns around to glare at me] "Hey. Hey! Why is the window locked? Open it now!
Me: "Cat, if you think I'm opening the window at four-thirty in the fucking morning when it's still freezing outside, you're even more delusional than normal."
Onyx: [pawing the window] "Open it up, I need my fresh air. I can't smell the morning dew and there are bugs and birds outside that I need to chitter at and try to grab through the window screen. Open uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup! Open up. Openupopenupopenup!"
Me: "No."
And then? He runs off to Reese to tell her what a big meanie I am for not opening the window. There is an entire conversation taking place in cat between these two about how I'm depriving them of their rights as cats by not opening the window. I am almost certain I heard talk of going on a petting strike if the window wasn't opened in five minutes.
Once I was done laughing hysterically, I opened up the window and let them fight over who got to sit on the sill. Oh, cats, such endless entertainment.
And then today, the brother-in-law had me in hysterics once again:
Me: "Okay, so there's this girl at my work who's so overly tanned that she's orange. She looks like an Oompah Loompah!"
Brother-in-law: [laughing] "Did you sing the song when you saw her?"
Me: "No, I had to avert my eyes before they could EXPLODE in self-defense. And then! Today, she wore bright green eyeshadow."
Brother-in-law: "Ahahaha! So now she really looks like an Oompah Loompah. You should've gone up to her and sang 'Oomph loompha, doopity do, move, I've got another claim to do, oompah loompah, doopity dorange, you look like a tool and you're fucking orange.'"
Me: *wheeeeeeeeeeeeeze*
I seriously thought I was gonna need my inhaler after that. That bastard's trying to kill me, I'd swear it.
In conclusion:
So who's gonna start writing John Cho and Anton Yelchin being adorable and awkward and naked together? I will even cheerlead the inevitable pairing name that results from slashing them. ('Chelchin' is winning my heart so far.)
I need food! Off to dinner.
Onyx: [jumps up on the dishwasher to get to the kitchen window, finds it's closed, and turns around to glare at me] "Hey. Hey! Why is the window locked? Open it now!
Me: "Cat, if you think I'm opening the window at four-thirty in the fucking morning when it's still freezing outside, you're even more delusional than normal."
Onyx: [pawing the window] "Open it up, I need my fresh air. I can't smell the morning dew and there are bugs and birds outside that I need to chitter at and try to grab through the window screen. Open uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup! Open up. Openupopenupopenup!"
Me: "No."
And then? He runs off to Reese to tell her what a big meanie I am for not opening the window. There is an entire conversation taking place in cat between these two about how I'm depriving them of their rights as cats by not opening the window. I am almost certain I heard talk of going on a petting strike if the window wasn't opened in five minutes.
Once I was done laughing hysterically, I opened up the window and let them fight over who got to sit on the sill. Oh, cats, such endless entertainment.
And then today, the brother-in-law had me in hysterics once again:
Me: "Okay, so there's this girl at my work who's so overly tanned that she's orange. She looks like an Oompah Loompah!"
Brother-in-law: [laughing] "Did you sing the song when you saw her?"
Me: "No, I had to avert my eyes before they could EXPLODE in self-defense. And then! Today, she wore bright green eyeshadow."
Brother-in-law: "Ahahaha! So now she really looks like an Oompah Loompah. You should've gone up to her and sang 'Oomph loompha, doopity do, move, I've got another claim to do, oompah loompah, doopity dorange, you look like a tool and you're fucking orange.'"
Me: *wheeeeeeeeeeeeeze*
I seriously thought I was gonna need my inhaler after that. That bastard's trying to kill me, I'd swear it.
In conclusion:
Click to viewSo who's gonna start writing John Cho and Anton Yelchin being adorable and awkward and naked together? I will even cheerlead the inevitable pairing name that results from slashing them. ('Chelchin' is winning my heart so far.)
I need food! Off to dinner.