Friday Fluff April 6, 2012

Hoppy Friday y’all. (I get to say things like that until Sunday. Aren’t you glad?) Easter is one of those middle of the road holidays for me. I’m not Christian, so I don’t go in for He Is Risen. But I don’t mind eggs. Much. And I loved egg hunts as a kid. (Not public ones. Never public ones.) And I never resented the Easter Bunny the way I did Santa Claus. (Why? Who fucking knows. But the red man and I got issues going way back.)  Anyway, tonight, I’m whipping out the dye and newspaper, and I’ll get you wacky eggz shotz tomorrow.



I have white space to fill. Copy to write. Etc. to Etc. In other words, it’s time for some Friday Fluff.  Look out Lisa, here I come! Anybody else, can come play, too. Just link up over here.

Do you believe in unicorns?

I presume you’re trying to get me to sing THIS SONG.

Fuck you.

But seriously, go watch the video. Amanda’s children are possibly two of the most adorable human beings I’ve ever seen on the internet.

How many of you does it take to screw in a light bulb?

Six. One to drive to the store and buy light bulbs. One to scream because the nightlight blew. One to give commentary on the state of nightlights, lights in general, the Northern lights, lightning bugs, lighthouses, and light exercise.  One to look everywhere only to realize there are NO MORE NIGHTLIGHT BULBS in the closet.  One to come home from date night and say, “You forgot to put the light bulbs away, here it is on the table”. And one to sleep through the whole thing.

In order, that would be me, Sam, Caroline, the babysitter, Scott and Fudge.

And it came full circle to me, because I screwed in the light bulb and put him to bed.

And don’t you dare ask how many academics it takes to change a bike tire. Because the answer isn’t pretty. Okay okay, the answer is two. As long as the tire didn’t need changing in the first place. No, that isn’t a joke. Quit looking for the punchline. It’s how my academic husband and his academic wife spent the last five hours.

Are you single?

Only in my worst nightmares. Scott and I look at each other daily over our screaming children’s heads and say “Thank GOD I’m not a single parent.”

Do you like pickles?

That was my sister’s nickname when she was a kid ,because she was so sour. I’ve started calling Sam that on his bad days because I know her demon soul is in there trying to steal him away from me, and if I call her by a hated nickname, I hope she’ll be too angry to remember to possess my little boy.

How do you feel about meadows?

My niece’s best friend is named Meadow. She’s a pretty cool kid by all accounts. But she’s singular. As in one Meadow.

Have you heard of Flarp!?

If you ever buy any of that shit for my children, you will die. I will kill you until you are dead, and then I will rob you for the money to replace the CARPETS they ruin with that Farty crud.

Ever flipped a turtle over?

Please clarify. If you mean “have you ever put a turtle on its back”, then FUCK YOU, no. I’m not into cruelty to animals.

If you mean “Found it by the side of the road and carefully turned it right side up”, then yes. Lots. And I am amazed when the shell is unbroken and wonder how it happened that the whole thing flipped but the shell didn’t crack.

Do you like to doodle?

I’d LOVE to Doodle for Google. But I have zero artistic talent.

How do you feel about long socks and chucks?

Is this a question about that movie Child’s Play? Because that was the dumbest thing ever. And I don’t remember whether or not Chuckie even wore socks.

Would you rather find a four leaf clover or a heads up penny?

I’d rather find a winning lottery ticket, the cleaning fairy at my front door, something to make my son stop screaming like a maniac until his meds kick in EVERY MORNING, AND a hundred dollar bill where nobody could possibly ever want to come back and claim it (because otherwise, I’ll find some way to give it back).

 Ever squirted orange juice in your eye?

Sounds like a euphemism to me. I think I’ll not answer on those grounds. I mean, my blog is such a clean space. We never discuss vulgar things here.

Do you keep a journal/diary?

I blog, therefore, I record.

Do you play an instrument?

I played a crappy flute until I left school after 9th grade. I own a piano that I want tremendously to play.

What is your favorite sound?

Music. Rich, flowing, symphonic, cacophonous, acidic, hard rocking, bluegrass twanging music.

How many kisses on the lips have you given?

I’m starting to think you’re sexually deprived. Are you going to go jerk off to the thought of me kissing on the lips? Do you have any idea? I’ve been married for over ten years now. We almost never peck on the cheek.

What’s your favorite ride at the amusement park?

Anything that doesn’t twirl me around until I puke. I love roller coasters. I hate the tilt-o-whirl.

About jesterqueen:
Jessie Powell is the Jester Queen. She likes to tell you about her dog, her kids, her fiction, and her blog, but not necessarily in that order.


Friday Fluff April 6, 2012 — 11 Comments

    • Yeah, I’m making up for the unswear-y weeks. Sorry about those. I’ll promise to increase my curses in the future to make up for the missing ones of the past 8)

  1. My wife and went to lunch the other day. I dropped her off at her work and kissed her cheek. She got mad at me and yelled in front of one of her coworkers “kiss me like normally do!” so I laid one on her. Glad to know you guys are the same.

    Happy Good Friday
    Hop over and visit Lance’s recent post Take It OffMy Profile

    • Muy Bien. I remember Scott and I used to embarass our parents by feeding each other desserts. (We were in grad school and took absurd juvenile pleasure in their squirminess). After we had kids, we went out for ice cream one day, and the kids were (as usual) being hellions. I had a cherry in my drink (I loathe cherries). I slurped it up and caught Scott for a kiss.

      1) Sam was too young and Caroline too autistic-oblivious to be mortified
      2) The cashier was neither too young nor too autistic-oblivious
      3) Scott LOVED that cherry.

  2. Playing catch up. Very sorry. The internet has. It found certain valleys in Tennessee.

    I am glad you and Scott are not single parents. Your notion that Sam is possessed by your deceased sister is disconcerting. An interesting literar concept.
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