Blinds a la Mode

Today's Conversation with My Cat

me (upon entering my apartment): LEELOO!

cat: Meow.

me: YOU ATE THE BLINDS AGAIN.

cat: Meow, meow.

me: Again?!

cat: Meow.

me: Were they REALLY that great the first time?

cat: Meow.

me: You're lying. I think we both know that the blinds do not taste that good.

cat: Meow, meow.

me: NO, LEELOO. I WILL NOT SALT AND PEPPER THE BLINDS FOR YOU.

cat: Meow.

me: Do you know the benefit to living alone, Leeloo? Do you?

cat: Meow, meow, meow.

me: Ha! Easy for you to say! You're naked ALL THE TIME. I, however, am not. I cannot relish in these benefits if you keep eating all the blinds in the apartment.

cat: Meow.

me: Fine, run away. That's right! Go to your room! AND STAY AWAY FROM THE BLINDS.

I Thought You'd Never Ask

friend: Last night was insanity.

me: Uh YEAH. We were way too drunk.

friend: We were three drunk.

me: I was crying.

friend: I was crying.

me: We were both crying.

friend: Over nothing.

me: Absolutely nothing.

friend: Last night was so dumb.

me: Very dumb.

friend: I am definitely taking it easy tonight.

me: Me too. No drinking whatsoever.

friend: Definitely not.

me: Nope.

friend: Not even tempted.

me: Me neither.

friend: Earlier I was thinking of drinking tonight, but I just can't.

me: I was thinking that, too. I was thinking that drinking may make me feel better. But definitely not.

friend: Definitely not drinking.

me: Nope.

friend: Unless you really wanted to.

me: Well a beer would be nice.

friend: It would be nice.

me: Very nice.

friend: Wanna get some beer?

me: Definitely.

friend: I'm turning around right now.

me: THANK GOD.

friend: WE NEED BEER.

me: I THOUGHT YOU'D NEVER ASK.

friend: But just one.

me: Yeah, one or two.

friend: Yeah, just like a few.

me: Definitely just a few.

An hour later...

friend: We've definitely had more than a few beers.

me: Yeah, but I feel great!

friend: So do I!

me: I feel SO much better.

friend: A LOT better.

me: This is what we needed.

A few hours later...

me: This beer is taking a toll on my figure.

friend: Yeah, me too. I'm definitely not the same size I was a few months ago.

me: Me neither. I need to slow down on the drinking and get back to normal.

friend: Me too. And stop eating fast food.

me: Exactly! I only eat shitty food when I'm drunk!

friend: Me too!

me: I'm going to stop, though.

friend: Yeah, drink less and not eat so poorly.

me: Definitely.

friend: For sure.

me: I'm pretty drunk right now.

friend: So am I.

me: I kinda wanna go to Taco Bell.

friend: I really want to go to Taco Bell.

me: Are we going to Taco Bell?

friend: We're definitely going to Taco Bell.

me: Like...

friend: Like right now.

me: THANK GOD.

friend: WE NEED TACO BELL.

me: I THOUGHT YOU'D NEVER ASK.

No One Puts Baby in the Corner...But They Will Put Nic Cage in a Banana

Nic Cage strikes again!

As a man in a banana.

As Jesus.

As an insect.

As Audrey Hepburn.

And as...this...dog/bread loaf...

Undone (The Wool Sweater Rant)

Conversation I Had At Walgreens

cashier: It's so hot outside!

me: I KNOW. IT SUCKS.

cashier: You have on a wool sweater...

me: I KNOW. IT SUCKS.

Conversation I Had At Work

boss: You were late again.

me: Yes. By three minutes.

boss: I'm sending you home.

me: Sorry.

boss: And your...wool...sweater?...is too baggy.

Conversation I Had At Home

me: WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH THIS DAY.

cat: Meow.

me: EVERYONE HATES ME.

cat: Meow, meow.

me: It's not like I chose the wool sweater. I COULDN'T FIND MY BRA. It was the only thing baggy enough to disguise the freedom. Plus, I woke up wearing it this morning...for some unknown reason.

cat: Meow.

me: IS THAT ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY, LEELOO.

cat: Meow, meow, meow, meow, meow ---

me: Okay, enough. I'm getting annoyed.

cat: Meow, meow, meow ---

me: I SAID ENOUGH, LEELOO.

cat: Meow, meow, meow, meow ---

me: OUCH!

cat: Meow.

me: STOP TRYING TO EAT ME. I AM NOT A SNACK FOOD.

cat: Meow, meow, meow ---

me: SPEAK ENGLISH. YOU'RE BEING A JERK.

cat: Meow, meow ---

me: We have some serious communication problems.

Drink Responsibly

Fleeting Thoughts After My Apartment Flooded

Thought #1

I need to start brewing my own beer. I will name this beer Responsibly, so that on every other beer can and in every other beer commercial, my beer will be marketed. "Drink Responsibly."

Thought #2

Why is it unicorn and not unihorn?

Thought #3

I woke up this morning at 8:00am. I got up, pissed, walked out of my bathroom, and heard a pop! come from the kitchen. I opened up the kitchen closet that houses my water tank to see a gushing stream of water spraying forcefully from the tank. This was odd because of three reasons:

1. When do I ever spend the night at my own apartment? Never.
2. When am I ever awake at 8 in the morning? Never.
3. My apartment is flooding.

I called my maintenance man and informed him of my dilemma.

"Randy here."

"Hey, Randy. My apartment is flooding."

"Be right there."

"Thanks."

I was expecting a more dramatic reaction. I guess he's used to it.

My next instinct was to leave my apartment. What? I was thirsty. Besides, there was nothing I could do, and I'd rather not stand there and watch my home go to ruins.

Within minutes, every inch of the place was underwater except for the two bedrooms. I was ankle-deep in water and neck-deep in jaw drops. On the bright side, I have fulfilled my childhood dream of living in a water park. Noodle donations accepted.

Thought #4

I've had a Shania Twain song stuck in my head all day. This makes no sense because I have not heard the song in years, and I only know one line:

"Whose bed have your boots been under..."

Ah, the 90s. Today, people are so blunt. If Shania wrote those lyrics now, her manager would probably tell her to rewrite it to "What ho have u been fucking." I'd write a whole parody of the song, but like I told you, I only know one line. That doesn't leave me much space for creativity. Or sanity. Whose bed have they been under? Whose?! TELL ME, SHAY-SHAY. I MUST KNOW.

Thought #5

You should be satisfied by now.

Mat Muncher

A Haiku About the Time My Sister Convinced Me to Go to Yoga with Her After Telling Me it Was Just a Thirty-Minute Beginner's Class

My sister, you lied.
A two-hour advanced class?
Vagina: ruined.

The conversation had started out just fine.

"Natasha, come to yoga with me."

"No."

If it had ended there, I would have still had functioning legs. My sister did not take this into account as she continued to press me.

"Please, Natasha, please."

"Absolutely not."

"You ALWAYS say you'll come to yoga with me, and then you never do."

"Because I'm ALWAYS working."

"What are you doing right now?"

"Alphabetizing my old Pokemon cards."

"Exactly."

"CHARZARD WAITS FOR NO ONE."

"This is fucked up."

"Whaaaaaaaaat..."

"You promised. On your next day off. You'd come to yoga with me."

"Katrina, there's no way I can do yoga. I am in no shape for that. I can barely sit Indian style."

"You're being dramatic."

"Criss cross apple CRAMP."

"Natasha."

"I'm not even dressed for yoga."

"You have a whole hour to get ready."

"I don't know what to wear."

"Shorts."

"I don't have any clean shorts."

"Dirty shorts."

"Ew."

"Sweat pants."

"Won't that get hot?"

"It's just a 30-minute class."

"You know how I sweat."

"Gross."

"Well, you do."

"But it's just a beginner's class, so it's not going to be difficult."

"Are you sure?"

"Definitely. It will mostly be breathing exercises and stuff. Just simple stretches."

"Ugh. Fine."

"Yeah?!"

"Yeah, fine. Whatever."

An hour later, we are at the YMCA in a room with mirrors for walls. It was bad enough that I had no idea how to prepare myself; it was even worse that I had myself as a distraction.

"Natasha, quit looking at yourself and grab a yoga mat."

"Where?"

"Over there."

"Oh."

"Are you looking at yourself again?"

"HOW CAN I NOT. EVERYWHERE I TURN, THERE I AM."

"Jesus, Natasha. Here, take this one."

"Should I take my shoes off?"

"It's up to you."

"Do other people take their shoes off?"

"Yeah, everyone does."

"Then why did you just make it sound optional?"

"Well you don't have to."

"You're trying to make me look like a rookie."

"What?"

"That's why you brought me here, isn't it? To make me look like a fool."

"Good god dude chill out."

"I'm onto you."

"Fine. Yes, you should take your shoes off."

"But my feet smell."

"THEN DON'T TAKE THEM OFF."

"This whole thing is already too complicated."

"You'll do fine."

"I'm also the only one in pants."

"You'll do fine."

"Alright, class! I am your instructor for today. We're going to start off with a few simple poses."

Then our instructor, a fifty-year old man with white hair and spandex, began to call out names I had never heard before. I can't even remember most of them because it all sounded like a foreign language to me. Or a sexual position. Downward dog? Come on now.

I continued to check my watch until thirty minutes had passed. The class continued. WHY WAS THE CLASS CONTINUING. I looked at my sister. My sister looked at me. 

"Congratulations, everyone! We are now a fourth of the way done in our Advanced Flow Yoga class! Everyone should take a sip of water before we continue."

I glared at my sister. My sister winced at me.

"ADVANCED?"

"I'm sorry! I didn't know!"

"ADVANCED?!"

"This class is two hours! HA HA HA HA HA HA ---"

"This is not funny."

"HA HA HA HA HA HA ---"

"TWO HOURS?"

"HA HA HA HA HA HA ---"

"This is not funny at all."

"You can sit in the car if you want?"

"I'm not going to sit in the car. Then I'll look like a wimp."

"Why do you care what these people think?"

"I'll feel like a wimp."

"Just watch me and you'll be fine."

"I want a cigarette."

"Alright, class! Now we're going to do Warrior III. Unfortunately, I cannot do this pose because I have a pulled tendon, but you all know what to do."

"I don't know what to do, KATRINA."

"I told you, just watch me."

"Okay, that doesn't look too bad."

"It's not."

"Ouch!"

"Why did you just fall?"

"IT'S NOT LIKE I FUCKING MEANT TO."

"Get up!"

"I am!"

"Are you okay?"

"No. I can't do this."

"It's not that hard."

"I have no balance."

"Yes you do."

"I JUST FELL."

"Okay you don't."

"And now, class, we're going to transition into a new pose. Unfortunately, I am currently unable to do this one, either, but get ready to do the Utthita Hasta Padangustasana!"

"What the fuck, Katrina."

"What?"

"He's not even speaking English anymore. We've gone to the dark side."

"OH, no, he just means the hand-to-big-toe pose."

"How the fuck do you know this."

"Because I know yoga..."

"I can't trust you people."

"Why?"

"Why doesn't he just say hand-to-toe pose? What's this Urethra Pasta Panda August bullshit?"

"Just do this."

"My leg won't straighten out."

"Just do the best you can."

"I think I just pulled my vagina."

"You can't pull your vagina."

"Then I'm the first in history. Because I definitely just pulled my vagina."

"You did not."

"It's going to be in the headlines tomorrow. YMCA Sued for Indirectly Pulling Girl's Vagina."

"Please stop talking about your vagina."

"Now, let's all take a deep breath, inhale, yes, yes, exhale, yes, and go into the Crane. I'll walk around and monitor the quality of your poses because I cannot do this one at the moment."

"Can this guy do ANY of the fucking poses?"

"Maybe he really injured himself."

"How am I supposed to learn if the TEACHER can't even do them? Katrina? ...Katrina?"

"Great. Awesome. Just do your pose while I'm over here. I'll just look at other people for help and look like the creeper in the sweatpants."

"I'm still going to talk to you even though you're ignoring me."

"The ol' cold shoulder, eh? Maybe you should let your knees warm your shoulders instead of letting them warm your ARMPITS."

"In case, you're curious, Yoga Mat Muncher, I'm struggling over here. Ironically, I've never shoved my knees into my armpits in midair before. OH WAIT. THAT'S NOT IRONIC AT ALL."

"Alright, class! Stretch gently and let's move into the Peacock and then transition into the pose dedicated to the Sage Kounindya."

"Ha. He said 'cock.'"

"Seriously, Natasha?"

"Sorry. I'm delusional right now. Blame it on the pasta panda pulled vagina."

"This is our last pose, I think."

"Alright, I'll do this one and at least I'll be able to say I finished strong."

"WHAT IN SATAN'S SACK."

"Just put your---"

"Yeah good luck with that."

"Yeah actually you won't be able to do this."

"Who the fuck is Sage Go Unda In Ya? The founder of Annie's Pretzels?"

"I'm not sure."

"I'm going to die here."

"You're being dramatic again."

"No. I will rot among you pretzel people and then I'll be remembered as just an untwisted lump of dough."

"I think it's over now."

And after some stretching and breathing (the latter being my most developed technique), the class was over. While I say there was a lot of bitching questioning, my sister and I were still laughing the entire time, which even made my most developed technique more difficult. She was mostly amused. 

(Except for the time she was too busy craning her pits or whatever.) At least I can say I mastered a new pose from this experience.

I call it the: Mendyourvagina.