As usual, I’m linking up with Lisa over at Seeking Elevation, today completing this quiz.
Are you awesome?
No. I’m Jessie.
This is like when my kids come running up to me whining, “I’m hungry,” or “I’m thirsty.” I say “Hi, hungry, I’m Jessie. What can I do for you.” And because they are on the spectrum, they then have to scramble to find the words to describe hunger and thirst without saying “I’m hungry”. It’s not really cruel. They need to be able to do this. But someday? Someday they will turn it on me and I will rue the tactic.
Do you like nachos?
Yes. But the question brings an inappropriate joke to mind. It’s not Jester-style inappropriate either, but full-out racist of the “I wish I hadn’t heard it, now it’s lodged forever in my brain with the word Nacho”. I won’t repeat the joke, but the word after nacho is cheese. I hate jokes like that. They aren’t funny, and they are compelling for all the wrong reasons
Do you know a person named Ashley?
I know someone with the last name Ashley. Does that count?
Do you have blog?
This should be answered with some kind of a gang sign, shouldn’t it? Yeah. I got blog. You want some? Gonna cost you.
What’s your favorite food?
Steak, appropriately seasoned, and cooked rare or, at most, medium rare. Please no A-1 or Worcestershire sauce unless the piece of meat is already tough, tasteless, and dry. In which case, why the FUCK did you serve it to me?? You may feel free to get me a Texas Road House gift certificate to atone for your sins.
Puppies, kittens, or pot-bellied pigs?
Puppies, and kittens, and pigs. OH MY.
Kittens.
Puppies chew.
Pigs get bigger than most owners expect, and they often become mean.
Kittehs are sweet little sociopaths, and I wish Scott weren’t allergic.
Do you forward those irritating chain e-mails?
No. About the only ‘chain’ I do is those blog awards that require you to answer seven questions about your gerbil, confess to being a monk in your last life, and compose a discourse on the Diet of Worms.
Do you have any stickers?
Is this a euphemism, or are you asking if my kid has decorated me yet today? If it’s a euphemism…eeewwww. If it’s the kid thing, no, but he’ll get around to me. He’s just still working on the dog.
Does your mom have the same color hair as you?
Roughly, yes. Except hers is gray now and mine is brown streaked with gray. Random. I really love my daughter’s my little ponies with the interchangeable plastic hair. It’s like a cross between pony-fun, Mr. Potato-Head, and wig wonders.
How many times a day do you go to facebook?
You assume I ever log OFF of facebook.
When was the last time you had a staring contest?
Oh. Yesterday. In Sam’s club. Sam was being a perfect little shit. (Exhausted and too many stores. No choice, but I knew it was coming). And we got to a point where I just locked eyes with him while he debated his next move. This rarely ends well. I finally said, “You have two choices. We can leave, or you can crawl under the cart and ride around like a little prisoner.” For reasons I do not understand, he thought the second choice was hilarious, and for the rest of the trip, he lay under the cart, riding around like he was the dog food or soda pop. Everybody we met cooed over him.
When was the last time you fell asleep with the TV on?
The third of Never. I rarely watch TV. I only recently even got one that goes to the outside world.
Has anyone kissed you today?
Now they have, thanks for asking. I’m sure my husband wonders to what he owes me running into the room and yanking him into my embrace while he wielded a paring knife against a pear.
Do you believe in love at first sight?
What do you see when you turn out the light?
Are vampires real?
Once upon a time, Bram Stoker had a vision. Elizabeth Kostova is one of his few true literary heirs. I enjoy Ann Rice. But she’s not what I’m talking about. There are a limited number of real, extraordinary vampire stories out there. But yes, oh yes, they are real. The stories, I mean. Outside of literature, vampire bats are real as hell. They just aren’t what you think.
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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. |
I can't believe that worked (your trick with Sam). Awesome, though. Sometimes you get lucky!
Completely astounded me. That N-E-V-E-R works.
Your children make cute vampires. 🙂
Thanks! They got a huge kick out of me dragging the superhero cape out of the dressup box and asking them to make monster faces for the camera phone.
I think that technically means that _you_ kissed _someone_ instead. I'm intrigued by how Sam managed to hold on underneath but maybe you have a different trolley design, maybe they'll start adding it to these strange pictures on the handle telling you where not to stick your children! 😉
Haha! I ran in one time and kissed him, came back, read the question again, ran back to the kitchen, yanked him BACK into my arms and then did nothing until he started laughing and kissed me.
Most of our carts have a shelf on the bottom, it isn't more than a foot high, right above the wheels below the bottom of the basket. There isn't room for an adult, but Sam loves small tight spaces, and he was completely intrigued with being allowed to ride around down there. Wildly uncomfortable, gut there you go!!
It's probably a bad sign that riding down there sounds like fun to me even in my 30s.
Oh I wish wish WISH I fit!! I wouldn't look half so darling as he did, but he was having glorious fun.
Love Ann Rice
Oh yeah. She's good. And she's certainly captured Stoker's eroticism. But it's just not the same flavor 😉
Too funny. You're missing some questions though? Couldn't you find a way to answer "Are you awesome?" (Pssst. The answer is 'yes.')
Cut and paste fail!! All fixed. I am still trying to make up a ‘have blog’ gang sign for us all to just flash at each other in public.
Hey! You shortened it. I was dying to find out if you "have blog"!
Yikes – cut and paste fail. All fixed now. But so you don't have to re-visit…
Are you awesome?
No. I’m Jessie.
This is like when my kids come running up to me whining, “I’m hungry,” or “I’m thirsty.” I say “Hi, hungry, I’m Jessie. What can I do for you.” And because they are on the spectrum, they then have to scramble to find the words to describe hunger and thirst without saying “I’m hungry”. It’s not really cruel. They need to be able to do this. But someday? Someday they will turn it on me and I will rue the tactic.
Do you like nachos?
Yes. But the question brings an inappropriate joke to mind. It’s not Jester-style inappropriate either, but full-out racist of the “I wish I hadn’t heard it, now it’s lodged forever in my brain with the word Nacho”. I won’t repeat the joke, but the word after nacho is cheese. I hate jokes like that. They aren’t funny, and they are compelling for all the wrong reasons
Do you know a person named Ashley?
I know someone with the last name Ashley. Does that count?
Do you have blog?
This should be answered with some kind of a gang sign, shouldn’t it? Yeah. I got blog. You want some? Gonna cost you.
What's your favorite food?
Steak, appropriately seasoned, and cooked rare or, at most, medium rare. Please no A-1 or Worcestershire sauce unless the piece of meat is already tough, tasteless, and dry. In which case, why the FUCK did you serve it to me?? You may feel free to get me a Texas Road House gift certificate to atone for your sins.
Puppies, kittens, or pot-bellied pigs?
Puppies, and kittens, and pigs. OH MY.
Kittens.
Puppies chew.
Pigs get bigger than most owners expect, and they often become mean.
Kittehs are sweet little sociopaths, and I wish Scott weren’t allergic.
Do you forward those irritating chain e-mails?
No. About the only ‘chain’ I do is those blog awards that require you to answer seven questions about your gerbil, confess to being a monk in your last life, and compose a discourse on the Diet of Worms.
Do you have any stickers?
Is this a euphemism, or are you asking if my kid has decorated me yet today? If it’s a euphemism…eeewwww. If it’s the kid thing, no, but he’ll get around to me. He’s just still working on the dog.
Are you awesome?
No. I’m Jessie.
This is like when my kids come running up to me whining, “I’m hungry,” or “I’m thirsty.” I say “Hi, hungry, I’m Jessie. What can I do for you.” And because they are on the spectrum, they then have to scramble to find the words to describe hunger and thirst without saying “I’m hungry”. It’s not really cruel. They need to be able to do this. But someday? Someday they will turn it on me and I will rue the tactic.
Do you like nachos?
Yes. But the question brings an inappropriate joke to mind. It’s not Jester-style inappropriate either, but full-out racist of the “I wish I hadn’t heard it, now it’s lodged forever in my brain with the word Nacho”. I won’t repeat the joke, but the word after nacho is cheese. I hate jokes like that. They aren’t funny, and they are compelling for all the wrong reasons
Do you know a person named Ashley?
I know someone with the last name Ashley. Does that count?
Do you have blog?
This should be answered with some kind of a gang sign, shouldn’t it? Yeah. I got blog. You want some? Gonna cost you.
What's your favorite food?
Steak, appropriately seasoned, and cooked rare or, at most, medium rare. Please no A-1 or Worcestershire sauce unless the piece of meat is already tough, tasteless, and dry. In which case, why the FUCK did you serve it to me?? You may feel free to get me a Texas Road House gift certificate to atone for your sins.
Puppies, kittens, or pot-bellied pigs?
Puppies, and kittens, and pigs. OH MY.
Kittens.
Puppies chew.
Pigs get bigger than most owners expect, and they often become mean.
Kittehs are sweet little sociopaths, and I wish Scott weren’t allergic.
Do you forward those irritating chain e-mails?
No. About the only ‘chain’ I do is those blog awards that require you to answer seven questions about your gerbil, confess to being a monk in your last life, and compose a discourse on the Diet of Worms.
Do you have any stickers?
Is this a euphemism, or are you asking if my kid has decorated me yet today? If it’s a euphemism…eeewwww. If it’s the kid thing, no, but he’ll get around to me. He’s just still working on the dog.
Your trick with Sam was awesome. I’m going to have to give that a try. That’s much better than 30 mins of nonstop crying and scene making that happened at Meijer’s last Wednesday. She was exhausted and I knew it was likely to happen, but still… Ugh.
Hop over and visit lisa from insignificant at best’s recent post Please Visit Me at The Monster in Your Closet
I have no idea why it worked. I think it was maybe because he loves those small tight places, and I was essentially offering him something very safe when he felt terribly exposed. But if I’d done that with my daughter, she’d have flipped out worse!! Good luck!