#Natitude

11 10 2012

There’s no witty story today.  Instead, we dedicate this post to the Washington Nationals, who need to win tonight to stay in the playoffs.  And we LOVE the Washington Nationals.  So much so that we named the white Let-Teddy-Win bear Danny Esbearnosa, after our second baseman, who is also from California and kinda Hispanic, like us.  Go Nationals!  Natitude!  Get your red on!  BEAT THE CARDINALS!  STAY IN IT, BOYS!  WE LOVE YOU!

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What They Hear When You Tell Them Something Constructive

4 06 2011

All Mrs. Poopmonster wanted was for Mr. Squishy to hang up his towel so that it would not sit in a ball on the floor, where it would stay damp and get smelly.  Yes, sometimes she also wanted him to take his empty beer bottles and put them in the recycling bin, and yes, she would prefer it if he would unplug the phone charger when he wasn’t actually charging the phone.  Mr. Squishy knew she was trying to tell him something, but all he really heard when she rattled on like this was, “blah blah blah, NO, blah blah blah, NAG NAG NAG, blah blah blah, NO, blah blah, NAG, NO, NAG NAG NAG…”





Once Again, Procrastination Proves Detrimental

24 11 2010

Why, oh why, had he waited until today to do his Thanksgiving shopping?  Mr. Squishy knew that the lines at the grocery store would be bad tonight, but he had been waiting twenty-five minutes already and was only now approaching the checkout counter.  Year after year, he told himself that he wouldn’t wait until Wednesday evening to buy his turkey and trimmings, but once again he had put off his grocery run until the last minute and now he was paying the price.  Next year would be different, he promised himself.  Next year he would wise up and have his refrigerator stocked by the Monday before Thanksgiving.  For now, unfortunately, he’d just have to suffer a while longer while the lady in front of him took out about a hundred coupons and wrote out a personal check.





Things You Should Be Afraid Of

21 10 2010

Listen closely, children, and I’ll tell you things that will make your blood run cold…  The oil in the Gulf of Mexico will be around for years to come…  Christine O’Donnell doesn’t know anything about the Constitution…  Your cell phone might give you cancer…  Google knows where you are at any given moment…

What do you mean that’s not the kind of scare you wanted?





The Little Things That Test A Marriage

28 07 2010

Sometimes Mrs. Poopmonster swore she could just smother him in his sleep and no one would ever have to know.  These nights when he snored to beat the band, it was all she could do from holding a pillow over his head.  She could blame his mysterious demise on an unfortunate combination of alcohol and aspirin, or she could say that she had always known he had a terminal case of sleep apnea.  Anything to stop the damn snoring.  Kicking him didn’t work.  Trying to roll him over didn’t work.  Slapping him on the back didn’t work.  Mrs. Poopmonster was beginning to understand where homicidal rage came from.





I Am Deathtooth The Destructor!

7 07 2010

Mr. Squishy really, really wanted Bear to come with him and participate in his live-action role-playing games.  Well, truth be told, Mr. Squishy wanted anyone to come with him, but Bear was the only friend who would even so much as think about it.  Bear himself was a bit dubious about donning a ridiculous costume and running around in the woods with a plastic sword, figuring it was the first step down the path to total geekdom.  Sure, you start out pretending to swordfight, then the next thing you know,  you’re playing Dungeons and Dragons with bespectacled, lispy teenagers on Saturday nights and building a model Hogwarts in your basement out of popsicle sticks.  He felt bad for Mr. Squishy though, who so badly wanted a friend to play with him.  Alright, Bear conceded, just this once, as long as Mr. Squishy promised never to tell anyone, ever.





This Is Going To Cost A Small Fortune

15 06 2010

“Love me, love my family,” she had said to Mr. Squishy at the beginning of their relationship.  He knew when he married Mrs. Poopmonster that her six kids would become a huge part of his life.  But did they really have to come out with them tonight?  To a nice dinner?  On their anniversary?Happy Anniversary, husband.