"Four Score and Seven Years Ago..."

"Four Score and Seven Years Ago..."

My darling husband Geo was born.

Okay, not really. It's actually one-and-a-half score and three years ago.

But, HAPPY BIRTHDAY GEO!!!

The picture on the left is what Geo looked like when he was without sin.
One minute after the picture was taken he coveted thy neighbor's wife because
her boobs looked especially full of dairy products and the rest is history.

Apparently, I never finished my 100 Things About Geo list which included another 20 things on his last birthday, so here are the last 30 things:

1. Geo no longer only drinks Seagram's 7 on the rocks, he now only drinks Johnny Black. Liquor snob.
2. His power celebrity threesome would be with Jessica Alba and Josie Maran (the model not the pron star). I would be handling the video camera, because they're on my Top 10 . Though it took this:

Geo: I don't think I'd do it really.
Me: What?? What do you mean you wouldn't bang them? *I* would bang them, just so I could say I did it.
Geo: True, you would. Okay put them on there.

3. People think he's a cyborg but really the simple secret to why he can do so many things is perseverance and patience. If he can't do something well, he practices until he can.
4. Geo has been both sky-diving and bungee jumping, but refuses to do either ever again.
5. His current favorite song is a random club song called "Running Water."
6. But he HATES going to clubs, though he sets foot in one about twice a year for random birthday celebrations.
7. Also, he admits the song is fruity.
8. Geo doesn't really watch a lot of television, but he watches Heroes and Friday Night Lights with me every week. And of course, 24.
9. He used to smoke Marlboro Menthol Lights, but last April 15th he quit smoking, after twelve years.
10. If he could only wear one color for the rest of his life (that isn't black) he would pick navy blue.
11. Geo once fell off the top of a telephone pole, when he worked for Bell Atlantic.
12. He owns about 80 T-shirts.
13. His favorite one is the Green Lantern shirt. Which is technically mine, not that I ever get to wear it (thanks anyway Tony).
14. His favorite current NFL players are LT and Tiki Barber.
15. While other people usually want ponies, Geo wants a penguin.
16. If he could own a house in any American city, he would pick Moorestown, New Jersey. (I would pick somewhere in the Pacific Northwest, so apparently we'd be living in different places. Just kidding.)
17. If he could vacation anywhere in the world, he would go to Italy and New Zealand.
18. Geo used to be very fastidious about his cars, he even kept a feather duster in the glove compartment.
19. This ended when he started having to drive 6 hours a day for work, and the back seat piled up with empty White Castle, Dunkin Donuts and McDonald's containers.
20. Geo is allergic to a bunch of random fruits. Apples, honeydew melons and cantaloupe make his mouth turn red and swell up.
21. He still eats them.
22. Geo's dream garage has a black, Porsche Carrera GT. And a black H1. Geo is car-ist, he only likes black cars.
23. If he was ever sentenced to death, his last meal would be The Olive Garden's Steak Gorgonzola Alfredo. Although, considering all the news about The Olive garden today, that particular last meal might remove the need for a lethal injection.
24. He's pretty law-abiding though, so his crime punishable by death would be something like "jaywalking" or "expired registration tags."
25. Also, he has instant scathing words for people who pretentiously mock his beloved Olive Garden.
26. His favorite cereal is "O's" though I have yet to see a box in our house.
27. Geo never had a bachelor party, which he doesn't care about but I feel bad about.
28. He doesn't care because he doesn't like going to strip clubs. It's a dislike based on financial reasons, not moral reasons. "What's the point of paying a stripper all that money just to look at her when you can go to a bar, pick someone up and actually do stuff with her."
29. Geo thinks parenthood is the most amazing thing ever.
30. He rocks. No seriously, he does. I can't say this enough.

I'll tell you guys tomorrow what me, Tony and Mike J got him for his birthday. In case he's snooping around here, sneaky sneakerson.

It's Official

It's Official

I am now officially a mom. Getting knocked up with twins didn't do it. Lugging what felt like a boulder around in my waist for months didn't do it. Popping the kids out after 6 weeks in the hospital with pre-term labor (constant IVs sometimes one in each arm, a full body rash and an abscess tooth triggered by steroid injections, migraines, anemia, elevated glucose levels and failing kidneys among other things) didn't do it. Staying at home with the kids didn't do it. So now people are wondering, well what in the hell did.

Yesterday... I made apple pie for the first time ever. Woot! Let me into the club! Okay so yeah, it wasn't from scratch. Sue me. But still, it was a pie and it was made from apples and I am officially a mom now dammit. Next on the list: slow cook something. Anything. Preferably in one of those alien contraptions I've heard about called a "crock pot." I probably have to go out of the ghetto to find one, here all we have are "crack pots." HAHAHAHA. I am such a fucking idiot. Puns are the lowest form of humor, it's good this is just a blog and you all couldn't hear me laugh out loud.

Janelle recently told me that the newest it thing amongst celebrity husbands is the giving of a large gift to thank their wives for birthing their children. Which you know, is a great idea although technically it's not like the husband himself could have birthed the child, so he's thanking her for being the only one in their relationship biologically capable of giving birth. Okay okay, calm down feminists. Don't get those charred bra straps in a bunch, let's move on.

So armed with my newfound gift knowledge, I went hunting for Geo.

Me: Janelle says that the newest "it" thing to do is to give your wife a big gift for popping out your kid.
Geo (joking): Well technically, you didn't pop them out.
Me: True but you could give me a "lay on the operating table and let some doctor slice me open so he could pull your two screaming children out of me then staple me shut" gift.
Geo: Umm... okay yeah that would have to be a pretty big gift.
Me: Well you can start with Guitar Hero 2.
Geo: Okay.

Swingers

Swingers
(As in couples who swap, not the movie where Vince Vaughn says "that's money baby" in every scene.)

People may have to sit down for this one, but I watched a movie on Lifetime the other night and enjoyed it. Yes, you read that correctly. I got sucked in while scrolling through the TV listings, when the words "This movie was filmed on location in Freehold, New Jersey over a period of four weeks" came up. That's like an ad for a restaurant saying "This restaurant buys week-old fish in bulk and undercooks it." Worked on me though so they must be on to something.

The movie was called "My Best Friend's Wife" and starred John Stamos, whose claim to fame is that he was in that show with the Olsen twins and for awhile was legally able to bang Rebecca Romijn. It was about two married couples who had been friends for a long time, that one day decided to swap spouses for a night. Or rather, the men decided then begged and pleaded their wives to go along with it. I'm not certain it was meant to be a comedy but I laughed a lot at inappropriate times, like when the characters were crying. Then I followed Geo around and hounded him until he picked a hypothetical swap for us out of all our married friends. No I'm not telling you who, you're not the boss of me. Just kidding, he didn't actually pick one. Who wants to bang a couple whose kids' birthday parties you go to. Freaks.

Based on the mistakes made by the couples in the movie, here should be the ground rules for any spousal swapping:

1. Don't pick couples where one of them is attractive and the other isn't. And I'm not just talking looks. Attractive people aren't always physically beautiful and vice versa. Also, their... biological attributes should probably be similar. To avoid any buyer's remorse.
2. If one of the parties had to be convinced to participate, there should be an eleventh hour signal of some sort. Like a "cease and desist" text message. Or a flare gun.
3. Use reliable birth control, DNA test results are not a good Secret Santa gift.
4. What happens in Freehold, New Jersey stays in Freehold, New Jersey. Contrary to popular belief, the fact that you know what your best friend's husband's cock tastes like is not appropriate dinner conversation.
5. Getting drunk and then asking your best friend how much he enjoyed your wife is not a great idea.
6. On further thought, pick a couple you don't know well enough to eat food with.
7. One of the couples should move to a different country after. Or the sun.

Rocks Do Not Rock

Rocks Do Not Rock

Geo woke up on Father's Day at 9 or so, to do some work in the backyard. Around one, when my aunt was able to watch the girls, I went outside to help him. There was a 4 foot tall, 7-foot wide pile of rocks that needed to be rounded up for disposal. Only we didn't have a wheelbarrow. And the larger rocks needed to be broken up into small pieces per some random disposal rule. Only we didn't have a sledgehammer. And it was 87 degrees out, with 57% humidity. And there are a fuckload of mosquitos in our backyard.

Geo hated it but I didn't mind so much (I wasn't out there as long as he was though). I hate working out because jumping around on my living room carpet feels unproductive to me (though my waistline disagrees). But carrying rocks is something that burns calories and works towards a goal that can actually be seen. Geo was in a pretty good mood though for someone who had been out there all day. At one point he burst into spontaneous song. There's this show on Nick Jr. called the Wonder Petsand in the show, a duckling, turtle and hamster rescue animals in need. So Geo started singing one of their songs but screwed it up... "A baby penguin, stuffed in an iceberg, next to a unicorn, we have to help it.." As you can imagine, that's not what they say.

The point is, our special Father's Day activity was Geo doing manual labor for 6 hours and me loading up, carrying and unloading 50 buckets of heavy ass rocks. Yeah I counted. He wanted me to go inside because it "bothers him to see his wife doing manual labor" but I reiterated that I wasn't weak or girly and that I wasn't going to get hurt. Of course, ten minutes later I got my finger stuck in the gate. And I have a purple bruise on my forearm the size of a potato. Oh well.

Geo: So what are we doing for Father's Day.
Me: You mean besides this fun activity?
Geo: Yeah.
Me: Well, I'm giving you a blow job. Okay just kidding. Those are for normal days not only holidays.

*50 fricken buckets of rocks later*

Me: This was your gift. Happy Father's Day.
Geo: Dude it was the best gift ever.

To get the rocks into the bucket, I had to pick them up with my gloved hands. After 20 or so buckets, I started seeing dried little feathers and knew that my time was coming. The law of averages dictates that the more buckets I filled, the higher the likelihood that eventually I would see something gross. And as the bucket count got higher, my apprehension grew, especially when I got to the large rocks on the bottom. Would it be a dead possum? A severed finger? An eyeball? A nest of those disgusting brown insects that look like the thing they pulled from Neo's stomach in The Matrix (I really hate those)? But I managed to get through all 50 buckets without seeing anything grosser than a pile of earthworms. WOOT!

The next day however, the law of averages caught up with me. You can run but you can't hide. As I bent to pick up a gum wrapper, right next to my hand was not one but two dried dead birds. Bleeehhh. The one that was still a little juicy I kicked under the car so I wouldn't have to pick it up. The second one though was dried sufficiently that it wasn't that gross so I swept it into the dustpan then deposited it into the trashcan. And just like that *poof* the backyard is clean. Mostly due to Geo though.

More Marital Conversations

More Marital Conversations

But first, it took me forever to post this. Blogger's server issues have really gotten worse in the past month. And before people start babbling on about "free sites" let me just say that I've been with Blogger so long, that I got swindled into paying for Blogger Pro to have "better servers" for my blog. So if anyone has any ideas on where to move 900 archived posts to, let me know. Although it must be said that the reason I'm still with Blogger is that I'm an html idiot.

And on to our regularly scheduled program. It's been awhile since I posted up some marital conversations so...

(In the car)

Me (as we're driving by a graveyard so you know I'm not naturally this morbid): You know those husband and wives who buy dual burial plots in advance, what happens if one dies and the other remarries?
Geo: What do you mean?
Me: Well, the next spouse may have an issue with it. Like say we had one of those and I got hit by a car tomorrow. You wouldn't still get buried there.
Geo: Why not?
Me: Well your next wife may have a problem with it.
Geo: I wouldn't get married again.
Me: What? Of course you would. You're fricken 32 years old.
Geo: Nope, I wouldn't.
Me: Well you should. You don't want to spend the next 35 years alone do you? That's ridiculous.
Geo: Nope, wouldn't get married again.
Me: So you'd just bang random chicks but not get married again?
Geo: Yeap. One marriage was enough.
Me (laughing): You asshole, I thought you were trying to be sweet but you're being an asshole!
Geo (laughing): No I'm just kidding, I was being sweet. I wouldn't get married again.
Me: Well I wouldn't haunt you if you did. Unless she was mean to our kids. Then I'd go all poltergeisty on her for being a witch and you for letting her into our house. Our kids would need a nice mom, they've already had a witch.

(At the grocery)

Geo: Who is this cereal for, us or the girls?
Me: It's for them.
Geo: So we can't have any?
Me (joking): No.
Geo: You're mean. I want a divorce.
Me: Okay. It's good you're divorcing me for a good reason instead of a stupid one like infidelity.
Geo: What's that?
Me: When you cheat on someone.
Geo: No I said "Why is that?"
Me: Why is that what?
Geo: Why is that wrong?
Me: You ass.
Geo (laughing): No wonder I got in trouble so much in my other relationships.
Me: I want a divorce.
Geo: I'm already getting one.
Me: Oh yeah, for "deprivation of breakfast cereal."
Geo: Yup.
Me: That may fall under "irreconcilable differences" though.

I'm just kidding about the divorce thing. I can't handle the stress of another divorce. So Geo and I have agreed that whoever wants to leave has to go on a picnic first. At the edge of a cliff. On a windy day.

(Just kidding, don't forward this to the FBI okay. They are already monitoring me because my brother's girlfriend's friend's cousin's next door neighbor's wife is Muslim. Fricken terrorist. Actually I'm kidding about that too. I probably wouldn't have a problem with being monitored, but they might get bored because of that whole I'm-not-a-criminal thing. I bet my spicy mid-day phone sex calls to Geo would make for fun water cooler talk at headquarters.

Also, if I knew the FBI was listening I'd get all cryptic.

Me: So... you picked up the package right.
Geo: Affirmative.
Me: And are the contents to my specifications?
Geo: Yes, "hazelnut-flavored" and "extra whipped cream."
Me: Good work. I'll be waiting at our usual meeting point of the living room.)

Happy Anniversary To Us

Happy Anniversary To Us

The reason I postponed the show to tonight is because yesterday was me and Geo's anniversary. Three years of official matrimony and counting. Every year Geo picks out some nice restaurant, we get gussied up and have ourselves some romance. Our other romantic moments during the year come in the form of a special smile, holding hands while watching our daughters run around and play, a kiss after a particularly rousing game of Guitar Hero. This is the one night we actually shell out the duckets for it.

Last night we went to the Highlawn Pavilion, on the peak of the Eagle Rock Reservation in West Orange. The restaurant is on the edge of the mountain, overlooking New Jersey and the entire Manhattan skyline. On a side note, during WWI Thomas Edison worked in the building, for various classified Navy projects.

The first thing we noticed when we walked in is that
Geo had dressed appropriately. Colorwise, he matched the
northern Tuscan villa decor perfectly.

The dining room was gorgeous and the service was wonderful. As an appetizer we ordered the "Samples of The Sea" which was an assortment of Maine lobster, crab claws, oysters, shrimp and colossal crabmeat served with ginger cocktail sauce and a balsamic vinaigrette for dipping. We got a bottle of their Tuscan Pinot Grigo, which tasted wonderful, especially with the crab and lobster. For our entrees, Geo had the shrimp ravioli with shaved fennel and two caviars, while I went with the chicken stuffed with vegetable mousse, baby spinach and garlic mashed potatoes with black truffle sauce.

The shrimp ravioli was really heavy and it was covered
with little Nemo eggs. Naturally we had to mention it each
and every time we took a bite. "Just keep swimming."

I normally prefer red wine but recently I'm starting to
acquire a taste for white wine. I think it has to do with the
lobster that seems to come with it. Also, my dress cost 14 bucks.

For dessert Geo had the Amerena cherry chocolate mousse dome with mocha sauce, and I had the... yes. Trilogy of Creme Brulee in coffee, orange and vanilla flavors. The orange one was tart and took a little getting used to, the coffee one was strong and the vanilla one, I would cup my hands together and eat by the barrel.

Most people don't realize that the answer to the often-debated
question "Is there a God" is "Yes, look at dessert."

During the meal, Geo and I decided to extend the night and go see a movie, something we both love doing together but rarely get to. We asked the maitre d' if there was a theatre nearby and he responded "You're going to see a movie on your anniversary?" And then in my head I responded "Do you WANT to get knocked out at work?" But you know, somehow I think polite society would frown upon brawling at four-star restaurants. Sigh. But we did top off the night with some Poseidon. All in all, a wonderful night spent with the man I love most in the world.

Geo took this in the theatre. We're such dorks.
That's why we get along so well.

Random Stuff Chapter 475,692

Random Stuff Chapter 475,692
(By the way, isn't it annoying when I don't post shit for days, then toss up two in one day. I finally tossed up a 24 recap.)


1. This article on large mammals becoming extinct about 12,000 years ago was a bit amusing. It said that some researchers believe the cause of their extinction was over-hunting. I don't claim to know a lot about paleontology, and I'm not saying that humans aren't a bloodthirsty bunch, but those animals were around for quite awhile. So there had to have been a decent amount of them. How many humans came over from Siberia... like ten? Me and Geo can't even kill all the mice in our house, and we aren't running around in the snow chasing them with spears.

2. Here's a funny article, about a woman who beat her daughter's teacher up. The funny part isn't that she did it, but that she did it in front of the woman's seventh grade class. Wonder if those kids were traumatized or excited. When I was in 6th grade, my best friend's bus driver got into a fight with a student's mom. Helen laughed her ass off talking about how there were weaves and Lee Press-On Nails flying everywhere. She even showed me one of the Press-On Nails, it was hot pink. People get off on watching people brawl. That mpeg of the woman slapping the teacher was all over the internet last month.

3. I had a dream last night that I was part of some rebel family with a crapload of kids. The authorities raided our house for evidence of our rebel dealings and somehow found the secret doors into the Batcave. It was like a futuristic Von Trapp Family, but with a Batcave whose entrance was opened when you run on the treadmill and punch numbers on the electronic screen with the timer and heart rate thing. Also, I was holding a keychain with the rebel insignia on it (woo, way to be incognito) and I couldn't find a place to dispose of it so I ate it.

4. Which I guess is better than the dream I had a couple of weeks ago, that the Chinese mafia was trying to kill me, because I accidentally bumped into the son of their head honcho and he fell into a restaurant fountain. This happened while the entire restaurant was watching, because of some magnanimous gesture he was making concerning an old waitress and some gold rings.

5. It's been awhile since I posted any marital conversations:

Me: Want a cupcake before you go to sleep?
Geo: Yeah okay, toss me one and I'll eat it while I watch porn. Cupcakes and porn.
Me: Here you go.
Geo (taking a bite): It's...... good.
Me: You don't look very impressed.
Geo: No, I am.
Me: Don't you remember our marriage vows. You're supposed to love, honor, obey and be impressed by me.
Geo: I don't remember saying that.
Me: What do you remember saying?
Geo: "I, George, promise to pretend to love, honor and be impressed by my wife." Wait... what was it really?
Me: Well they don't say "obey" anymore. They used to make the women say it but not the men.
Geo: What?? Why don't you have to say it anymore? That sucks.
Me: It's this thing we like to call "equality."
Geo (in a high-pitched voice): Equality schmequality.
Me: I guess I could have said it, but it'd be a total lie.
Geo: Oh yeah, they say "cherish" now. I'm supposed to love, honor and cherish you.
Me: And obey.
Geo: Right.

By the way, the cupcake is an actual cupcake.

Tequila Shots For The Radio: Volume 7

Tequila Shots For The Radio: Volume 7

Last night's show can be downloaded here. The musical theme was "Songs That We Used To Jam To In College" (1993-1997) and consisted of Cypress, Heltah Skeltah, Cranberries, OMD, Blackstreet, old school deep house and other stuff. There were a lot more songs in the queue but it was one of those nights were I talked and talked, then glanced at the clock and realized a crapload of time had gone by and I hadn't played that many songs. We're supposed to play at least 4 songs an hour. Rules? We don't need no stinkin' rules!! Just kidding.

Highlights:

-It's not automatically "racist" to think we need to have stringent immigration laws in this country. It would be a mess if we didn't. Not just in terms of national security but also economically.

-I love this country. Love it. Perhaps it's because my parents both came from small, poor towns in China and the Philippines. As my dad so often says, "If I had never come here you'd be some Chinese peasant girl." Thanks. Yet true.

-I said it was okay to have our national anthem in Spanish but I was under the impression that it was our regular anthem translated into Spanish. But it's not, it's the tune of our anthem bastardized into some political propaganda for this immigration bullshit going on. So Wyclef and Company, here's a big FUCK YOU. I hope you get huge pimples on your back. (That's the evilest wish my karma can take this week. I can usually do better.)

-Sometimes the drunken nights end in ways that are truly ludicrous and my fault entirely. A few years ago, Geo and I came home from a night of drinking and drank some more. As usual, we felt frisky after all the liquor and started getting down and dirty on the sheepskin rug in our living room. In the middle of it all, Geo started getting dizzy so we stopped and he went to the bathroom. In the short time he was there, I somehow completely lost track of what we had been doing and decided I was hungry. We used to live above a band and when we came in after the restaurant, I accidentally left my take-out on the table in their studio. So I put on a robe and went downstairs to get my food. While down there, a couple of the band members asked me about these piranha we used to have that were like a foot long. I invited them back upstairs, again having completely forgotten what Geo and I had been doing.

We get upstairs, I open the door and there is Geo laying butt naked on the rug... and I have no idea why. So I start yelling like he's some sort of deviant pervert "Geo!!!! What are you doing NAKED?!?!?!" He sees the guys behind me and grabs this big Sponge Bob Squarepants stuffed animal my nephew left behind, using it as a smooshy yellow fig leaf. I proceed to tell the guys to go ahead and check the piranha out, even while Geo is sitting there naked. They were so confused because either a) I was trying to concoct some elaborate pron scheme but Geo wasn't on board with it or b) Their naked friend was in the middle of having sex with his girlfriend, who for some reason was telling them to go look at their fish tank. I can't tell that story without laughing hysterically but I truly am a complete idiot sometimes. Luckily, Geo still married me after that.

-Dean asked in the chat room "If a girl loses her virginity doing it doggy will it have a negative effect on her psyche?" The answer is yes. If a girl loses it that way then she spends the rest of her life banging strange men and asking them to jizz on her face. Also, according to him "Nobody Knows by Tony Rich Project is the worst song ever to do it doggy to."

-How I once dipped into the herbal essences and when Tony and my roommates in college walked in, I was flying high and watching "Butt Banged Bicycle Babes" (about 11 inches from the screen by the way) and eating chocolate chip cookies dipped in tap water since we didn't have milk.

Those are the highlights but there's much more of course. Thanks for listening, especially the people who listen live and hang out in the chat room. I feed off you, much like the piranhas we used to have before they all ate each other, but in a nicer way.

Valentine's Day

Valentine's Day

I made the usual blog rounds and have come back here in guilt, that I have yet to address this momentous holiday. I am happily enamored of my significant other so there's no reason for me to ignore such an important time in consumerism. Is that a word? My point is, people have chosen many ways to celebrate this day. Some chose poetry. So I wrote a poem:

For Geo

Roses are red
Violets are blue
I like your penis
(and you too)

Ta-da!!! *applause* No no, standing ovations aren't necessary.

Some other people chose to give a brief history of their great love story. So here is ours:

In 1995, Geo and I met because I was going out with his best friend. Years passed. I married someone else, while elsewhere in the country Geo was off dating and banging random chicks. More years passed. My first husband and I decided to separate. One day, I was unemployed and found out Geo was unemployed too. Our unemployed asses started hanging out. Because there's nothing quite like being drunk at a movie theatre at 3 p.m. on a Tuesday. Our original intention was just to be friends (and I have bar napkins scrawled with the names of every person either one of us has slept with to prove it.) And we managed this for quite awhile, until Fate stepped in under the guise of Too Many Drunken Nights Alone With Each Other. We decided we were good together. Discussed a small wedding ceremony in Hawaii. Fate laughed and stepped in again, this time under the guise of Too Much Whiskey and a Red Victoria's Secret Bustier. Two people started growing in my stomach. Quickie ceremony at City Hall during which we both cried. Possibly for different reasons. Two little girls popped out of my stomach. And here we are. But um, a little more romantic than that. Romantic like shared humor and actual love and respect for one another versus fire hazards and stinky incense. Though flowers are nice.

Other people chose to celebrate Valentine's Day with heartfelt messages to their loved one. I can do that too:

"Geo, I love you more than food. MORE. THAN. FOOD."

But since I'm too lazy to do all that (hee) I'll just make a list.

Top 8 Things That Rock About Geo

1. He doesn't just love me and the kiddos, he actually likes us too. Love is obligatory. Like isn't.
2. He's good at everything. Seriously. It's a bit scary at times.
3. He's strong, but doesn't need to assert his manliness for the sole purpose of asserting it.
4. He makes the best garlic mashed potatoes. Period.
5. He's that guy that won't say anything for twenty minutes, then when he does it's hysterical. He talks a lot when it's just the two of us though. Not that anyone believes it.
6. He doesn't whine and bitch and moan over the things he can't change.
7. If it's important to me, it's important to him. Even if it's the stupidest thing on the planet and we both know it. Or he just knows it.
8. Everything else I didn't mention.

Happy Birthday Geo

This Is Your Birthday Song, It Doesn't Last Too Long HEY!

Two of my very favorite people were born today.

Just between me and you, I like one a bit more than the other because I sleep with him. Don't tell anyone though.

In honor of Geo's birthday I will add another 20 things to that really long list about him.

51. Geo was born at Jersey City Med, almost 2 weeks late.
52. People think Geo is quiet but he actually talks a lot to people he knows.
53. He is even more politically incorrect than I am.
54. But flies under the radar so no one can tell. This blog outs him a lot though.
55. Geo not only fixes everything in the house that breaks (including the plumbing), he also fixes our roof, laid the tiles down in the bathroom and kitchen, puts up shelves and builds random things around the house.
56. He likes putting things together, even IKEA crap and toys.
57. Geo isn't quite lactose intolerant, more like "lactose displeased."
58. Which doesn't stop him from putting cheese in everything he eats.
59. Geo consumes White Castle murder burgers, McDonald's double cheeseburgers, ice cream and coffee by the truckload and never gains any weight.
60. He doesn't work out either. It's pretty sickening.
61. His first dog was named Skippy. Skippy died in a tragic water accident.
62. Geo plays The Cure and Smashing Pumpkins when I'm not in the car.
63. He has a pretty nice singing voice, not that he ever sings.
64. He can also draw very well, not that he ever draws anymore. And dance very well, not that he ever dances. And play the drums very well, not that he really drums anymore either.
65. Geo once had to stuff his girlfriend's best friend in the closet... naked.
66. When his girlfriend knocked at the door to get some.
67. It took 5 years to shake off the last of the karma.
68. Geo randomly dislikes Julia Roberts, Renee Zellweger and Kirsten Dunst. Every time one flashes on the screen he goes "Oh I hate that girl."
69. He wants to live somewhere warm.
70. Geo loves aquariums. He used to have some big piranhas that went nuts when the ph balance in the tank was altered. The last two ate each other to death simultaneously.

Marital Conversations On Relationships (Sex)

Marital Conversations On Relationships (Sex)

Geo and I were in the kitchen cooking dinner, and we got into a conversation about sexual relationships. Key points:

• It's okay to hook up with a friend's ex if it's been at least three years since they went out. But the clock starts from the last time your friend hooked up with him or her. So any booty call action resets the clock. Unless the person wasn't anyone they took seriously, and they're finished with them. Then the wait period is "long enough to take a bath in between."
• For every 6 months of celibacy, you should be able to cross one person off your bang list. This may result in some people having negative magic numbers but every plan is flawed in some way. This is just for women though, who due to societal double-standards have to deal with the whole village bicycle image.
• The third date rule is lame. Unless, you hit it on the first date and this is just a re-run. But sex should be based on the situation and comfort level of the people involved, not some random dating idea thought up by idiots. By the way, I'm the one that thinks the rule is lame. Geo thinks the rule should be re-written as the "First Date Rule."
• It's rude to expect extended cuddling after midnight. People have work the next day.
• It's also rude to be woofin in the nether regions. Chafing is not an appropriate morning after present. Neither are green bumps or burning sensations of any kind.
• Kissing is an indication of how good someone is going to be in bed. So if after the kiss ends your face is covered with enough saliva to seal a box of envelopes, I'd suggest you make it an early night.
• Everyone lies about sex, but they lie about different things. Women lie like "No I didn't sleep with him" or "I've never done this before." Men lie like "Yeah I was thinking about you."
• Foreplay time is like movie length, you have to hit the right amount or you lose the audience. Too much and they're like "How long is this fricken thing" (*insert obligatory "long fricken thing" joke here*) while too little and they feel robbed. Of course, when you have young kids foreplay is a thing of the past anyway. It's more like "How much time do we have? Okay Red Team go red Team go!!!"

Bonus: It's okay to sell your spouse a la Indecent Proposal but you have to get their permission first and the wire transferred into your account up front.

Cops in Movies, Commonality, Crappy Kids Stuff

Cops in Movies, Commonality, Crappy Kids Stuff

Ever wonder how people as fucked in the head as Paris Hilton are created? Here's your answer. Although eventually it comes down to personal choice to act a certain way, Mommy and Daddy start the avalanche. The Paris Hiltons of this world aren't born, they're raised.

An old Steven Seagal movie was on last night and it made me wonder a few things. How come cops in movies and on television always wear "the wire" on their chest, where it is inevitably discovered? Do real life cops wear it there as well? How come they don't just stuff it down their crotch, where the big macho bad guy probably won't care to look? I assume they have microphones strong enough to work from down there. Also, how come cops in movies screech up to places, park the car sideways, then try and act nonchalant while walking into the establishment?

Kwame and I have weekly 24 and Nip/Tuck phone sessions, depending on which one is in season. And the combined power of him, Abel, Audrey and Paul got me on the Lost bandwagon. I banged out Season One in four nights after the kids went to bed. Who needs sleep when you can watch people get attacked by polar bears and monsters and wild boar and random people. Anyway, I need a Desperate Housewives call friend, one who preferably watches Grey's Anatomy too. Apply within. By the way, I hope Lost isn't going the way of Michael Crichton's Sphere. That would be a rip-off.

Ray did a post awhile back on the commonality of him and his boyfriend Matt. So here are me and Geo's percentages:

Height - Geo 80 / Riss 20
Athletic ability - Geo 50 / Riss 50 (I can beat Geo in tennis, but he can beat me up. He was raised in Jersey City so he knows all my dirty tricks. We can both catch and throw long and fairly tight spirals . I have a better outside shot but he has a better lay-up.)
Patience - Geo 80 / Riss 20 (That missing 20% happens when he's in his car.)
Affinity for music - Geo 50 / Riss 50
Ability to maintain while drunk- Geo 60 / Riss 40 (Geo gets 20 more percentage points because he rarely gets drunk, but when he's drunk he talks shit really loud as if no one but us can hear. "Hey Riss, look at that stripper, her hair looks like yarn." Meanwhile, she's two feet away.)
Ability to remember things - Geo 20 / Riss 80 (As you can imagine, this is especially annoying for Geo when we fight.)
Cooking ability - Geo 60 / Riss 40 (I've gotten better since I got knocked up. It's one thing for me and Geo to be eating Captain Crunch for dinner, but kids need actual food.)
Obsessive compulsive habits - Geo 30 / Riss 70 (I alphabetize my DVDs but I'm getting better. They used to be alphabetized according to genre.)

People keep asking what they should get the girls for Christmas. So I started browsing around and came across these two Baby Bratz dolls. They were twin dolls so I clicked the link. Um eeew. Now I realize why Geo doesn't mind the Bratz line of dolls but hates the Baby Bratz ones. They're a pedophile's toy dream come true. The babies wear make-up and come with diapers and SHEER THONGS. Excuse me, I have a little bit of throw-up in the back of my throat. May as well segue into my newest rant.

While shopping for presents the other day, I walked into a store which caters to adolescent and teenage girls. Apparently the in thing these days are shirts with random statements on them. Most are stupid, but there are funny ones out there. I noticed that one particular shirt was almost sold out while there were stacks of the others. The shirt was pink and said "I'm too pretty to do math." That's nice. At least we're teaching them early to grow up and be idiots. Or whores. The other shirts said things like "I like boys with money." If one of my daughters ever came home wearing a shirt that said "Gold-digger" I'd be like "You better be telling me you got a fucking job in a mine."

100 Things About Geo

100 Things About Geo: Part One (1-50)

I did the requisite 100 things about me awhile ago, so this time I thought I'd do a 100 things about Geo and let ya'll get to know my husband better. You know, the 5 or so of you reading this who haven't slept with him. Just kidding haha, he really wasn't that much of a ho in his glory days. It's just fun to make the jokes, you know me. It's what I do.

1. Geo fixes everything in our house that breaks. By himself. And then it works again. Even the electronics.
2. Geo is 5-10 but is one of those people that looks taller.
3. Geo hates it when people eat his last bite of anything. He thinks it's rude.
4. But he regularly offers me that last bite because I'm his wife.
5. Geo has the nicest smile in the entire world.
6. Geo loves sandwiches. Turkey, ham, steak, salami, egg, peanut butter, spam whatever. He loves all sandwiches. Slap it between two slices of bread or into a roll and he'll eat it.
7. Geo almost moved to Atlanta in 2000, but decided to come back.
8. Geo talks in his sleep. It's a bit scary.
9. I have only seen Geo infuriated twice in my life. Once, when some woman's unleashed pit bull attacked our puppy and the other time when someone I was brawling with attacked me when my back was turned.
10. Geo's birthday is so close to Christmas that his parents gave him one gift for both every year.
11. Geo always orders a Seagram's Seven on the rocks.
12. Geo and I initially planned to just be roommates and best friends. It didn't quite work out that way.
13. Geo dislikes reading for pleasure, but he read the first three Harry Potter books because I asked him to and he reads all my blog posts.
14. Geo had an enormous crush on Goldie Hawn when he was young.
15. Geo used to breakdance very well (according to people who used to watch him).
16. But he doesn't even attempt the moves anymore because he says he's "too old" and his "back might give out."
17. Geo is 31 years old.
18. Geo taught himself how to play the drums by watching videos.
19. He's actually really good.
20. But he doesn't play enough.
21. Geo likes to recite along with certain movies, namely Top Gun, The Rock and Toy Story.
22. Geo makes the best garlic mashed potatoes in the history of the spud.
23. If he wins the lottery, Geo wants to go to culinary school AND be the drummer in a band that plays music like Linkin Park.
24. His favorite football player of all time is Joe Montana.
25. His favorite tennis player of all time is Stefan Edberg.
26. Geo is the middle child, he has an older sister named Jennifer and a younger sister named Janeth (Net).
27. He pretended to push Net off the roof when they were kids, grabbing her at the last second. He realized how dangerous what he did was, when he told me about it 20 years later.
28. Geo's list of movies he likes but rarely admits to includes Simply Irresistible, Never Been Kissed, Overboard and She's All That.
29. Geo works out to that song they play in Rocky IV when Rocky is preparing to fight Ivan Drago.
30. Geo comes out with really funny, random things. Like when our daughters were trying to eat his ice cream, "Get off me you're like coyotes!"
31. Geo has one tattoo, navy crossed anchors on his chest.
32. He wants to get another one on his back, a phoenix (for him since he's a fire sign) with its wings wrapped around a dragon (for me, as in Year of the Dragon and a fire sign.)
33. Geo didn't have a girlfriend until high school, because he was obsessed with skateboarding.
34. His favorite candy bar is Chunky.
35. Geo can beat the crap out of people, like the guy who tried to mug him down the street from our house.
36. He can also ballroom dance.
37. Geo occasionally mourns the loss of his stock Acura Integra Type-R, which did the quarter-mile in under 14 seconds and was towed out of our driveway by rat bastard car thieves in January of 2002.
38. When Geo was a kid his mom dressed him up in shirts that said "George" on them.
39. For Valentine's Day the year I was pregnant, Geo made the best dinner ever: grilled steak with sauteed onions, king crab legs with melted butter, garlic mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, asparagus with Hollandaise sauce and homemade chocolate-covered strawberries.
40. Geo's favorite holiday is Christmas.
41. Geo's prior job consisted of putting up the networks at hospitals, office buildings, airport terminals and stores like Best Buy, Bloomingdale's, Macy's, Costco, Pottery Barn and William Sonoma.
42. Geo's all-time favorite TV shows are Airwolf and MacGuyver.
43. Geo's magic number (i.e. the number of people he's slept with) is 16 > 42 but the list has spaces where he can't remember their names, with things like "service hallway at Newport Mall" written in them.
44. He is (obviously) bad with names.
45. Geo was on the tennis and bowling teams in high school.
46. Geo made my bouquet on our wedding day and wraps all my gifts in a special way.
47. His favorite chain restaurants are The Olive Garden and The Cheesecake Factory. He always gets the toasted raviolis and the crispy crab wontons.
48. Geo is the best father. He changes smelly diapers without a qualm, drives out of his way to pick up a specific brand of wipes, brushes little girl hair into perfect pigtails, carries a daughter in each arm when they cry and cuddles them to sleep every night.
49. He is also the best husband. He loves unconditionally, supports me in everything I do and considers the needs of his family over his own each and every time.
50. Geo rocks.

(L-R) Ages 9 mos, 5, 22, 27 and 31

Shower Thoughts

Shower Thoughts

I ran out of my usual shower gel and was left with one of those suspicious freebie shower gels that come with shampoos. I say "suspicious" because if it were really that good, why are they giving it away? It was an Herbal Essences shower gel with the scent of "mallow flower" which I think is botanical code for "ass." Because that's what it smelled like. And I had to use it or just be one of those people that showers without using soap. So right now I smell like ass. And will continue to do so until I can get to a store.

Geo came home from work last week and told me he heard on the news that they're running out of names for hurricanes. Then he said "I told my co-workers that if ever a Hurricane Marissa comes they shouldn't even bother to run or hide. It'll just be armageddon." My husband is so sweet. Other wives get flowers, but flowers die. I get honeyed words likening me to a violent and destructive act of nature.

Speaking of hurricanes, I saw an ad (courtesy of K's blog) on the Breast Cancer Site which has the words "Gulf Coast Breast Cancer Crisis" over a picture of a destroyed house. It implores visitors to click on it and fund free mammograms for women in the South. Now it's just a click and cancer is a serious thing, but way to jump on the Hurricane Katrina bandwagon. I laughed when picturing hundreds of trucks arriving in New Orleans, filled with mammogram machines instead of food, water and first aid supplies. Right now men are chastising me in their heads. "Riss, it's important to save the tits. In fact, some tits are more worth saving than some people."

I am finally over my flu but all the coughing has left my chest sore. The worst part of having the flu is having to hock up loogies (lugies?) one tic-tac-sized piece at a time. If I were a chemist I would invent a pill that would somehow gather up all the phlegm in your body into one long-skinny mass and allow you to crap it out. My initial idea was a tube you could jam down your throat to suck up all the phlegm at once. But on further reflection that sounded painful. I really hate coughing.

You know what's a bit annoying? The fact that the things we played with and trashed as children are worth so much money now. Like lunchboxes. And Transformers. I had this exact fucking Strawberry Shortcake lunchbox as a kid. Used it to keep sandwiches in, sometimes for days. And now it's worth 200 bucks. Insanity. If I were a kid I would want this lunchbox. Or maybe this Batman one. I already have a lunchbox though. I even brought it to work once. It didn't have sandwiches in it though, just smokes and a flask. It has The Rock on it. Don't make fun, you roody-poo candy asses.

It makes me laugh when celebrities do commercials. Like Catherine Zeta Jones and her Sprint commercials or Robert DeNiro and his American Express commercials. It just seems weird for "serious" film stars to be pimping themselves out to Corporate America. I wonder if there are certain "rules" to it. Like it's okay to do commercials as long as it's a decent product, and not douche bags or mayonnaise or something.

I started doing this kickboxing workout on DVD and it's pretty good. But a side effect of watching it is that I want to beat the shit out of the instructor. She's just so damn peppy. Coked up cheerleader peppy. Which probably means she'd kick my ass because she'd have that crazy drug addict strength.

Julian McMahon has made yet another appearance in my dreams. But just as it was getting good, one of my twins started crying and woke me up. I tried to explain to her that technically dreams didn't count as infidelity to which she replied "Wah uh ah mama." Which loosely translated means "I don't give a fuck what you do on your own time woman, but get me some milk."

Random Crap

Random Crap

1. Geo beat his co-worker this week in their fantasy match-up. And by "Geo" I really mean me since I'm the one running his team. I have to make some changes though, I'm a little weak at the tight end position. My point is, I was watching the game tonight and my 83-year-old lola (grandmother) walks in.

Lola: Is Tony playing on the tv?
Me: Huh? No.......
Lola: I thought he played basketball.
Me: This is football.
Lola: Ohhhhh.

I considered telling her that basketball is played with 10 people on a hardcourt, while football is played on a 100-yard long field, not counting the end zones, with more players. I considered telling her that at 6-4, Tony is tall but not all tall people are pro basketball players. I also considered telling her that even if he wanted to be one, at 6-4 he'd have to be a point guard and he's used to playing center since Filipinos are normally not that tall. Instead I just said "Yeah Tony is tall."

2. This e-mail I got from Kwame made me snicker:

Steph said "Bush did a fly by because New Orleans is 68% black." I was like "Umm, Steph should the president be paddling in the muddy, gasoline and dead body infested waters while dumbass looters take potshots at him in an area we can't secure?"

He better watch it or his political party is going to revoke his membership. Kwam is a liberal and I'm a conservative but oddly enough we agree with each other more than we agree with some of the people in our respective parties. I think when I run for President on the "Blowjobs and Hugs For All" platform, I will create my own political party and invite Kwam to be my running mate. All the non-white people would probably vote for us, half the women would vote for us just to see a female President, the liberals would vote for us out of guilt because Kwame is "African-American" and I am "Asian-American" and the conservatives would vote for us because I support the death penalty, would attempt to get rid of that whole "cruel and unusual punishment" embargo and would allow prayer in schools (don't think Kwam feels this one but he could be persuaded to come around). I would support low/middle-class tax breaks and yet also support corporate tax breaks for corporations that keep their jobs here. I would support stem cell research even as a Catholic, because deep down inside I think God is a nice guy who understands that we don't want to see our children and spouses and parents die of horrible illnesses which rob them of their strength, hope, joy, dignity and eventually lives.

3. Is it me or is the movie industry getting a little desperate with their comic/action duo pairings? The Man is coming out starring Samuel Jackson and.... Eugene Levy. Who? Exactly. I think his most notable performance was probably as the dad in American Pie. "Ohhh, hiiiiim." Right. My point is, not every black man/other guy dynamic is going to work as well as Chris Tucker and Jackie Chan. So just let it go.

4. I have the neverending mosquito bite on my foot. The foot is one of the most annoying places to get bitten, because it's just awkward to scratch. Mine is right on the side of the arch and I've pretty much used every remotely sharp object in the house to scratch it. Which of course only extends its lifespan. What a catch-22.

5. I no longer have a favorite ex-boyfriend. It was Tony for awhile, with my high school sweetheart Gerald coming in second. But Gerald didn't call me when he was in town for a night. "I had to go to a private get together that blah blah blah..." Private get together is synonymous with "circle jerk" in my dictionary. And Tony keeps having conversations with me like this...

Tony to one of the kids: You are so cute!!!
Me (joking): Thanks man!!! Hey Geo, Tony thinks I'm cute.
Tony (sounding like I just suggested he dismember puppies): Eeeew I wasn't talking about YOU!!!!!!!! Gross.
Me: It might be better for my ego if you didn't sound so appalled.
Geo: You thought she was cute at one point or you wouldn't have banged her.
Me: Thanks hubby.

See, that's the key to a solid marriage. Your husband always has to have your back (and of course your front.)

Sports Fans, Marital Sex, Pregnancy Tests and Scotty Doesn't Know

Sports Fans, Marital Sex, Pregnancy Tests and Scotty Doesn't Know

1. Two weeks into the Riss Versus Philip Morris No Smoking Open and the score is 28-0 for the home team. 28 times I was tempted to give in and take a drag and 0 times I gave in. The answer of what I would do when faced with a night of drinking has been answered. I pump my fist in the air in triumph and invite all my friends who didn't think it could be done to blow me. On your knees, ye of little faith!! Or you could give me Chex Mix Turtle. That works too. I think two bags would go a long way towards easing the hurt of this appalling lack of faith in your dear friend.

2. Any day now I will be expecting my thank you card from Andre Agassi. Because you know, it wasn't his skill, superb athletic ability, endurance, belief in himself and mental toughness that enabled him to beat James Blake in 5 sets after losing the first two sets and being down a break in the third. No, it was not. It was because of me, and the fact that I didn't leave my seat or even move it for the last 2 1/2 sets. Seriously. That alone is what caused the win. Because I sat down and he started winning games, so Geo and I decided that must have been the catalyst. So for the next two hours, my idiot self stayed put. I didn't get up to get a snack, didn't get up to take my allergy medicine, didn't get up to pee. I just stayed in my chair and yelled things like "That's it Andre you can do this and I know you can hear me!!!" I felt bad cheering against James Blake because I like him and the story of how he recovered from a neck fracture is amazing. But it's Andre Agassi so I had to cheer for him. And sit in a chair without moving for two hours for him. Aren't sports fans stupid?

3. You know those people that say all the mystery dies after marriage. It just might be true. Geo's new pick-up line to me is "Let's lie on the bed naked." And my oh-so-sexy and witty repartee is "Okay." But you know me, I'm a fan of efficiency and bluntness. To me removing all the verbal foreplay is a good thing versus a bad one. And our sex life would probably be set back if Geo was inclined to give some big pre-coital speech every time. Though the idea of Geo giving some inspirational speech remniscent of Mel Gibson in Braveheart before we have sex makes me giggle. I picture him striding around at the foot of the bed and saying "Tonight, is an act, not about biology and procreation but about passion and the hearts of men and women..."

4. I was watching the Sharapova-whoever match a couple nights ago and they showed a pregnancy test commercial. Is it me or do the makers of these things not have much confidence in women at all? First tests were dot or no dot. Then they were pink mark or blue mark. Then they were one line or two lines. NOW tests will actually have the words "pregnant" or "not pregnant" appear. Then again maybe the idiot-proof tests are a result of women complaining about confusion. I'd like to know so I can hang my head in shame if they are.

5. Speaking of commercials being played during the U.S. Open, they keep playing that Expedia commercial with the father daydreaming about going on vacation with his son. There's a cheesy Simon and Garfunkel-type song in the background that goes "Being a dad is awe-some" and it's just supplanted the "Scotty Doesn't Know" song from Eurotrip in my head. For the past few days I've been walking around randomly singing that one line. At least with the Eurotrip song I knew like three lines ("I can't believe he's so trusting, when I'm right behind her thrusting. Scotty doesn't know, Scotty doesn't know, Scotty doesn't know...")

The Dream Wars

The Dream Wars

Geo and I are battling in our sleep.

Two weeks ago, I crawled into bed after a long night of Mario Tennising and kissed him goodnight. His response was to say "Get off me." I wasn't trying to get some or anything but still, the rejection was a bit harsh. And amusing, considering he was still pretty much asleep. I figured he must have had a dream of some sort in which I did something bad. So naturally, I started messing with him.

Me: Why are you so cranky?
Geo: You just cheated on me.
Me: Really, with who?
Geo: Tony.
Me: Oh come on, that doesn't count.
Geo: Yeah it does.
Me: No it doesn't count if you slept with the person before.
Geo: Yeah it does!
Me: So when did this happen?
Geo: While I was at work.
Me: How did you find out?
Geo: You told me.
Me: He TOLD you?? Dammit I knew that guy couldn't keep his mouth shut.
Geo: No, YOU told me.
Me: What? Now why the hell would I do something as stupid as that?
Geo: I don't know.
Me: So is Tony's lunch hour all of a sudden 4 hours long, because his work is like an hour and a half from here.
Geo: He took the day off.
Me: He took the day off to bang me??? Woo-hoo!! I rock!!
Geo: Shut up. I hate you.
Me: Sorry.

I spent the rest of the night hugging him just to annoy him. That morning he sat up and said "You broke my heart." And I actually felt bad for a moment, despite the fact that it was Dream Me that had the indiscretion, that little ho.

Yesterday, Dream Geo got back at me twofold. It all started out innocently enough. Those are the worst dreams, the ones that lull you into thinking nothing bad is going to happen. The dream first started out with me and Donald Trump riding around Manhattan in one of those Filipino tricycle things. I was his friend or something and he was going from store to store buying shit. The boxes were piling up so I asked if we could call his limo driver (who turned out to be Aud's brother Andrew) but he said no. Later on I was wandering the New York City Public Library but all the books were gone and instead there were racks of clothing for sale and a whole bunch of autistic children dancing in the aisle. We climbed into the elevator and it started making a screeching sound and the autistic kids went crazy and I had to calm then down. Then I was back in some condo and the woman who was supposed to be watching them was yelling at Donald Trump for dumping them at the library and leaving.

Suddenly the dream changed and I was in some room with a small 20-foot pool in it. Even though it was indoor, I was laying out because there were tanning lamps or something and a hippie-looking DJ in the corner. Some 16-year-old kid kept pestering me and when I went to the DJ to discuss opera of all things, he tried to cockblock. Eventually to get away from him I jumped into the pool, but there were like 15 people in there already and I had to climb out because I kept wondering about the water to urine ratio of the pool.

Then I was sitting at some banquet for Geo's work that was magically in the same small room. Some short, dumpy Spanish chick was sitting next to me and she kept waving around this company newsletter. I got the feeling she was doing it on purpose so I read the top lines. It read something to the effect of Spanish Girl (forgot her name) "convinced Geo to buy his wife a Brooks CD from a concert they went to and pretend he bought her the love song CD because he thought of her" or something like that. I read it, knew it'd meant Geo had fucked around and ran out into the hall and punched him. Our friend Allan pulled me off him, so I just kept yelling and Geo did this thing he does in real life when I get too snarky during arguments, he put his finger up and said "Chill. You're taking it too far" and left.

The dream got really scary there because Geo got hurt (no, I didn't beat his ass with a bat) and it felt so damn real that I woke myself up. Like I forced myself to wake up, chanting "This is just a dream" in my head. But I didn't wake up mad, I woke up scared. And then I looked over to make sure he was okay, and then got cranky he cheated on me with some dumpy Spanish girl. With acne.

They say that when you dream of your spouse cheating on you it's not that you're worried that they would bang someone else, but that you feel they put something ahead of your needs, i.e. their job or hobby or the NBA on TNT. But we don't do that, so I think we just had those dreams because we're dorks.

Anyway, he started it with his dream. Tonight I'm going to dream that he ran over my dog. I think we need to get out more, we hang out at home so much we're inventing drama. Today I got an e-mail from Geo that was signed "Love, your husband who doesn't cheat on you in real life but does in your dreams." Actually it was just two dreams, this one and one I had when I was pregnant, in which he hooked up with the daughter of a Columbian drug lord. Ooooh I woke up mad after that one! Pregnancy hormones. Anything can set you off when you're pregnant. You get mad at mayonnaise and the doorbell regularly.

A Special Moment

A Special Moment

Geo and I are very romantic people, as evidenced by the following scene outside my house tonight:

Geo: Did you just bat at that firefly?
Me (looking down at the tube of wrapping paper in my hand): Um, no.
Geo (turning back around): Oh okay.
Me (batting another one into left field): Woo-hoo!
Geo: You did! You did just bat at the firefly.
Riss: Ummm... yeah. Sorry. Cruelty to animals.
Geo: No, it's just that I used to do that all the time too.
Me: Oh!!
Geo: You really ARE my love.
Me: Yes, until this moment they were just meaningless words.
Geo: Shut up.

Score

Score
(Back up, this post magically turned into a draft somehow. The poll is acting weird so I had to replace it.)

So I finally got laid in a dream last night. I woke up feeling inordinately proud of myself. For those of you who have been reading my blog for awhile, you'll know this is a rare occurrence. For some reason, in the past few years or so, every time I'm about to get some in a dream I wake up literally a few seconds before things get interesting. Geo and I have a running joke that he has the remote control to my dreams.

Me: You snoozed last night with the remote. I cheated on you while we were sleeping.
Geo: With who?
Me: Julian McMahon.
Geo: That's okay, I got some first. He can have sloppy seconds.

I'm just happy it was someone decent. Normally when I have sex in my dreams it's with some random real life person I don't even find attractive. Sometimes the experience promises to be so nauseating that my mind screams "Wake up, he's taking off his pants!! Run!!!!!!" But last night was highly pleasant. So pleasant in fact, that when Geo's alarm came on I turned it off because it was interfering with my dream. Luckily it was Sunday. I don't know how Geo would have explained being late to his boss. "Sorry sir, my wife turned off the alarm because she was having a really great sex dream about that guy from Nip/Tuck."

I wonder if people read the marital conversations Geo and I regularly have and think we're the two weirdest people ever to be married to each other.

My Dog Update
Yes, another dog story. So like ten minutes ago Geo yells for me, and I go outside and he says "Bring in the dog." I assumed he was just trying to spray him with the hose to encourage him into the house. So I open the door and my canine child comes scampering by. He's already inside the house and halfway up the steps when I realize he's got what looks like a dead rat in his mouth. I'm like "Eeew eew he's got a dead rat in his mouth!!!!!" Geo comes running and yells at me "Why didn't you stop him" to which I start laughing hysterically because there's NO WAY IN HELL I'm going to try and grab our dog while he's got a dead rat in his mouth. He might brush that thing against me or something. I'm not that girly about shit like this but even I draw the line at dead rats.

So Geo goes into the kitchen, and locks him in his crate so he can remove the dead rat. Which is really a baby possum playing dead. We go back outside and I'm like "You didn't really think I was going to try and grab him while he's running around with a dead rat in his mouth did you" and I start laughing hysterically all over again. Geo sees the humor in that and can't help but smile. But again, eeew.

Fucking crappy poll whose script is messing up my page Take 12:

"I want to see more..." (Choose all that apply)

Fiction, like your Demented Fairytale series. Non-Fiction, like how you went out that one time and accidentally set your hair on fire. Commentary, like the guy who tried to kill his wife when she saw him banging a chicken. Top 10 Lists like your "Top 10 Reasons I Hate Living In The Ghetto." Book reviews, REAL books not your review of Penthouse Letters Volume XXIV. Movie reviews, though you have deplorable taste in films. Posts about food. You are the food whore are you not? Political commentary, you haven't flamed anyone in awhile. Photo blogs, like what it looks like when you sit in Yankee Stadium in the first fricken row, bitch. You don't care about our answers you're just having fun making this poll. What the hell are you doing here, go finish your book already you lazy wench.

To select multiple entries hold the Ctrl key (or the Apple key)

Free polls from Pollhost.com

Chafing

Chafing

So I'm Mario Tennising and my beloved husband comes up to me holding a toy. No, not that kind of toy. We don't keep those in the living room. He says, "Remember my ex that used to chafe me? This is what it looked like whenever we had sex." And he holds up Cheer Bear and Grumpy Bear, puts them in a compromising position (complete with humping motions) and starts laughing.

The facial expression on this thing cracks me up now.

I laughed too, because I remembered how when we were just friends, Geo used to meet me and Tony at Applebee's and complain about it over shots. He'd deliberately stay later, hoping that she would be too tired to have sex that night. I told him at the time to just ask her to get a wax instead of avoiding her. Geo has very sensitive skin. His shirts even cut his skin up sometimes. It's both endearing and disturbing. And useful. When he pisses me off I say nothing, then after he goes to sleep I starch all his shirts. Just um, kidding.

By the way, settle a debate for us. While we were getting dressed to attend a Christening yesterday, I asked Geo if he could see any unflattering undergarment lines through my dress. He said yes, so I groaned and went to find a new dress to wear.

Geo: Just go commando.
Me: No. You can't go commando in God's house.

He disagreed but I think I'm right. It's not the fricken mall or some random bar. By the way, I fricken love saying that. I said that about eight times today. "You can't chew gum in God's house." "You can't say 'Fuck' in God's house." "You can't have your fly open in God's house." I wonder if God was watching the whole time and saying "Dammit Riss, stop being such a fucking Church Nazi."