Whoooo boy. Parents.

I'm gonna talk about how my day went yesterday. So I got to hang out with my cousin Gambler yesterday at this excellent excellent place called GAAAAAMEWOORKS! They had everythin' there. They had my favorite type of game: the-beat-the-living-crap-out-of-your-opponents games. AND THEY HAD LIKE 10 DIFFERENT MACHINES FOR THIS TYPE OF GAME!!!!!! YEEEEEEES!!!!! They also had FOUR count'em FOUR DDR machines. I got to play Red Zone! RED. ZONE. possibly the MOST POPULAR AND MOST WIDESPREAD DDR SONG IN EXISTENCE!!! Yes. Gambler ended up losing all of her points within the first five minutes. The gambling ticket games cost like 1/4 of a 300 point card. ITS RIDICULOUS. The games I played costed like 1/89th of a 300 point card. So she ran out and I still had like 230 points or something like that. So out of the kindness of my heart I allowed her to use MY card for gambling. SHE REALLY WANTED THAT T-SHIRT. It turns out my card was lucky. SHE WON. 1000 Tickets. ONE THOUSAND. That was more than enough for her t-shirt. And I benefited as well. (It was MY card she used anyway...) So I got some candyyyyyyyyy. Weeeee! And I got a greasy burger. Weeeee! And I got frozen yogurt. Weeeee! And I got left at the house with the children all day. Weeeee! ALL DAY. Weeeee? See, Motherbot and Fatherbot got bitten by the jealousy bug and decided to go away while Gambler and I babysit the kids. It's understandable. It's only fair that they get a day off too. But still my hands are feeling full Gambler is being useless and leaving me to do all the work. Whiney started playing this imaginary game where she is a monster. This freaked the living kabuki out of Bean. But I turned on the penguin show and now they're farily calm. For now... To be truthful my parents aren't REALLY taking a break. It's parent teacher night at Whiney's new school. So they need to be there. Geez. To the parents ever get any breaks? They probably do. But it doesn't seem that way. I really don't plan on getting anybody pregnant anytime soon if children require this much maintenance. I had to cook and serve dinner. Change a diaper. Scream NO! Whenever Bean tries to climb on top of the television. (I don't really know if I'm supposed to scream NO! To save her or save the TV... I think it's both... Probably...)

DOODOOcacaaa

I don't know what to type right now... but it'll come to me... Like a groundhog coming out to take a gander at its shadow... O.O I got my toooopic!!! Groundhog Day. It's summertime, so that's why I feel we need to break out some ice cold groundhog to cure those heated boredom-bruises of the brain. (BADABADABIIIIING!! ALLITERATION-ING!!! JUST LIKE YAO MING! TOGETHER WE SING THE DING DING -ING SONG!!!!) I should be on a children's show! I got the spunk! I got the edocational caknowledges! GASP. I'LL START NOW!!!! Quick all you parents out there BRING ME YOUR CHILDREN! (Look, I know it's hard to trust an absolute stranger with the product of your loins, but TRUST ME. I'll make sure your kids are safe... I mean... I may not have any official PAPERS gauranteeing the safety of your child PER SAY... BUT YOU HAVE MY SCOUTS HONOR! Yes. I was never a scout. But by no means does that mean I am not equally entitled to their HONOR. We have a Constitution for a reason you know.)

OKAAAY! Children! CHILDREN!!! CHILDREN! Please stop complaining about the rattlesnakes under the floorboa-HEY! DON'T EAT THAT!!! *Sigh* poor Tom just ate snake sheddings. That won't digest easily... BAH! He'll survive. ALRIGHT CHILDREN! Let me tell you the epic tale of Groundhog Day...

Once upon at timeeeee... there was a hog. Now this wasn't any old salmonella poisoning beefcake HOG. No... This Hog was a HIPSTER. Now I'm not talking your average, everyday, "I think I'll where the blue hat" hipster. NO... I'm talking like "Lightbulbs on the CEILING?!?! That's too mainstream." Yes. This hog was HOG-CORR (Wow. That was painful.) He didn't roll in the mud. He stood in the shower. He didn't bend down his head to eat that ugly looking stuff hogs eat. In fact he raised his head up to drink blended vegetarian dishes. (Another added bonus: NO GLUTEN! Yaay!) Yet this hog hated the most mainstream thing of all. LIVING ON THE GROUND. So how did he try to solve this problem? Well he-TOM'S DEAD?! Ummm... Ok kids! Carefully make space in the closet behind me... WIDER! I don't want his vomit on my new fluffy coat! Ok lift him carefully... Good. GOOD! Now, somebody get a Clorox wipe and clean this vomit on the floor and YOU! yeah you! THE GIRL WITH THE NAPPY HAIR!!! Get some Fuhbreeze from the cupboard. The vomit is starting to stink up the room... Ok. While they work on that I will continue. So Mr. Hipster Hog wanted to live amongst the stars. He called his friend Muddlfungus. An Alien who could be found at coordinates 37 14'36.52"N, 115 48'41.16"W. (I told you this hog was a hipster. He hung out with a rather ABNORMAL crew) Anyways, Mr. Muddlfungus had built a HOUSE-CRAFT. A completely sustainable air-house that a whole family could live in for generations at a time. So this hog took a LIMO (heh. Hipster Swag.) to the coordinates. He was almost brutally made into bacon by the staff of Area 51, but they saw that he was THE hipster hog and treated him with the utmost care. The two hipters had a fun day together. They played with some toy aircrafts and they played with some minecrafts (not the explosive kind.) and they got the hog into the housecraft and UP HE WENT! Unfortunately, the housecraft was only meant for human use. Somebody didn't read the label! Silly Muddlfungus! And the hog immediately plummeted down along with the housecraft about an hour and a half into the flight. The house was buried in the ground. This means the Hipster Hog was buried in the ground. But he survived. He adapted! And this hipster was the very first GROUNDHOG. And Groundhog Day commemerates the day of his fateful fall as the epic transformation into the cute wittle fuzzy creature we know and love.

Look, don't put the blame on me! YOU didn't raise him right... He ATE. SNAKE SHEDDINGS. AND NOW HE'S DEAD... No he wasn't. I TOLD YOU: there are no specific papers stating him as MY responsibility!... I WAS NEVER A SCOUT!!!!... erm... loose interpretation?

Escape! DAY 2.

I told you it was coming soon! So yeah. Speeeeeeech will be Speeeeeeech. So what happened on day 2 of my epic escape from Illinois wasteland began in the morning. Which is strange. NOTHING happens in the morning. But yah. Garbear had a small mission to go on. He was to ELIMINATE all Kommunisto artwork in the Hipster Museum. And he couldn't do it alone. So he gathered members of THE SELLER'S GUILD! This included Broadway, Sanswag, Bucky, and myself. (Critic unfortunately could not attnd because he was gathering firewood for his mother for the honorary ALL-AMERICAN-SHRIMP-POTATO-BARBEQUE! A legitimate reason indeed.)I know what you're thinking: WHY WOULD THOSE KOMMIES EVEN DARE TO SNEAK THEIR POISON ARTWORKS INTO THE HIPSTER MUSEUM?! Well, it's obvious. THE MUSEUM IS RUN BY HIPSTERS. They might misinterpret evil for art. So we successfully infiltrated and annihilated any and all Kommunisto artworks. BUT WE WEREN'T DONE THERE. We got intel from Horribear that there was a kommie kongregation in the nearby park. We searched it thoroughly as if we were using Google's advanced toolbar... Yet we found not one kommie. This was relieving because there was no conflict whatsoever. But this was worrisome. WAS HORRIBEAR ATTEMPTING TO INTERRUPT OUR MISSION?!?! That would have infinitely slowed us down had we not finished the job. Not to my surprise when we entered the Bear Cave THERE SHE WAS. She released this gas in my sleeping area the night before that made people go crazy. It took effect that night. And I was rampaging around like a rabid wild boar. She did this specifically to antagonize Garbear. AND SHE WILL NEVER BE FORGIVEN! That Kommie used me as a WMD! I wasn't expecting to be turned into a hyperactive-kommie-zombie. But I was for a hot sec. It's a good thing I paid a visit to the ALL-AMERICAN doctor known as THE LORAX; or else I would have never been cured! And thus concludes my epic stay with the Bears.

Escape! DAY 1.

SOOOO. Muuuuuch. Happened. I haven't blogged. WAGAGAGAGZGAGAGAHAGAG. Well. I guess it's time to catch you up in one SUPER EPIC POST. I'll try not to let it happen again. Mmmmmmmkay? So. I finally got a chance to leave the wasteland of suburban Illinois to visit my beefcakes in NY. There was a SPEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH pool party. Whoop whoop WHOOP! But there was a teeeeeny tiiiiiny teeeeeeeeeeeeeeny tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiny teeeeeeeeeeeeeee(WE GET IT!) ok. Teeeeeeeeny liiiiiiiiiiitle problaemo. Who was I going to stay with during this escapade? *finger snap!* I KNOW... THE BEARS. Yep. You know who I'm talking about. The family of secret agents! But you didn't hear it from me! So yeah. I feld quite safe under the keen eye of James Bondbear. I spent most of my time chilling with Garbear. (you see he has this top secret mission investigating a meth lab run by Colonel Sanders in the basement of the Burlington Coat Factory. So I had to make sure to see him off safely. I also assisted in helping him study for his mission. We watched a movie about this chocolate maker with daddy issues who plans the assassination of five children in order to protect his product. He let the fifth one live because that kid solved his daddy issues. But still. This choco-MOB-BOSS was willing to KILL. CHILDREN. And chocolate is legal. I can't imagine what lengths a drug dealer would go... Or. Maybe I can. We also studied by watching a television show exactly matching the description of Garbear's special assignment. But we didn't do that until after the SPEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH PAAAAAAAARTYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OMG. I is excited! It was a pool party!!! But then the sky got a booboo and started crying. And nobody likes sky-tears. Grrr. That sky is such a sissy! Well even if the pool was soiled by the sky tears, we still had a dandelion fun time! Speech is gonna be eeeeepiiic! We have these little foot soldiers who are going to DECLARE some new territory. (so many pseudonyms for the future! Yay!) Broadway is going to BLIND the competition with her pieces. My piece is gonna BURN. The Critic will be SWINGING away like usual. And Sanswag is gonna KICK. BUTT!!! It kinda feels like being in an army-I GOT IT! "THE SELLER'S GUILD!" That has a nice ring to it. Garbear's mission will have him very tied down. He won't be around the lead THE SELLER'S GUILD! So I guess I have to be a substitute for a while. I shall attempt to lead THE SELLER'S GUILD! with proper gusto to brighter speechified sunsets. I will also have guidance from the Almighty Seller herself. So it should be a promising year. DAY 2. coming soon. To blogs near you.

IKEA.

Guess where I went today... Crap. It's the title. So much for the "big reveal". The thing is... This "IKEA" place. WAS. ABSOLUTELY. ASTONISHINGLY. BIG. Now I'm not talking Batman big. I'm not talking Godzilla big. No. I'm talking Lassie's My Fair Lady Loves Lucy Extravaganza big. I was dazed the whole time. Like an elderly person who is running low on prune juices. There were SO MANY PEOPLE. You don't understand. It was like the density of the sun combined with the density of Charlie Sheen's ego. Every time I turned around I saw some new face speaking some different language. I heard French, Chinese, Korean, Russian, and Spanish AT THE SAME TIME. This gave me a headache. (Insert vivid adjective here. My headache gets worst when I think about it...) It also had a food court. LET ME REPEAT THAT. It also. Had. A FOOD. COURT. Oh, all this desk shopping has got my stomach really going! Honey, we should take a break and have lunch. WHAT?!?! It needs a food court?! Really?! Shopping for desks should take as little time as possible!!! They are desks. And cabinets. It shouldn't require a sacrifice of your mullah to the IKEA cafeteria. Sigh. American consumerism. Gotta see it to believe it. But I guess it doesn't matter all that much. The sheer population density of the IKEA facility I went to is most indefinitely going to destroy the building. I could swear the ground was shaking on the upper levels. My mom felt it shaking too. Good thing we got out of there before its indefinite collapse in the near future.

A boring adventure.

Whooooowheee. Boy have I got something to tell you! So currently I'm in Illinois as most of you know. Apparently, my mother had been illegally driving for WEEKS while being lucky enough to not get pulled over. You see, her license is invalidated in Illinois and she would have been jailed had she gotten pulled over. But she didn't. Yet, today is the day she decides she ought to go to the DMV and get a legit license. HOWEVER. She needs a lackey to be present so it looks like she didn't drive there with an illegal liscense. Guess who that jive turkey happens to be. YEP! ME. GOOD OL RTYOYO HERE TO SIT IDLY IN A ROOM FULL OF STRANGERS. I mean I guess it's kinda cool. I get to embody a blatant lie physically. But still. This is more a test of endurance than an awesome espionage mission. So that's where I am right now. Sitting. In the DMV. Doing nothing... Please have me in your prayers.

This is the paragraph where I document the utter insanity that is happening currently (hey I'm in the DMV for no legitimate reason. I need some form of entertainment!)

So there is this annoying voice that announces every person's number and what counter they are going to for assistance. It is very robustly rhythmic and redonkulously robotic. (If there are that many words beginning with the letter "r": you KNOW the sound gets annoying after the first 3 people.) The robot woman stars with an arbitrary "NOW SERVING" then the code (with adequate pauses after EVERY BURGER-FLIPPING SYLLABLE.) "EFF. SIX. ONE. TWO." then it tells you the counter number. For some reason the voice turns all seductive. You don't notice it at first but after the 33rd time the robot lady tends to sound much more excited when announcing the counter number. "at counter number fiiiiiiiive." Now imagine this same sequence of happening at about 5-15 second intervals. My eye twitches at the thought of it. I am helplessly wincing in my mind I I'm thinking "MAKEITSTOPMAKEITSTOPMAKEITSTOP." but unfortunately, wishes never come true at the DMV. 

This is the paragraph where I describe the cast of characters at the DMV. Let's start with the people behind the counters that the random robot loves so dearly. Eighty percent of them are elderly. The other twenty percent look like pencil pushers. Almost all of them are wearing glasses. Maybe they are special glasses so when the revived Ghengis Khan comes rampaging in they can use their laser-shooting standardized glasses to restrain him. I wonder if these elderly people are aware that Ghengis Khan is dead... I mean... They were certainly around when he was alive... I guess they weren't invited to the funeral. What a bummer! I heard there was a peacock there that sang the greatest hits of their day. Like "Wade in the Water" or "Ring Around the Rosie" or "Wonderwall" (Trust me. After what I've been through, "Wonderwall" is far beyond dated.) That's what's sad about the DMV. It's so dated. Everything is made of wood. The walls are all painted white. No. Not even white. More like dog poop on the sidewalk. No. Even that's too rich a color. It's more like spilled yogurt that never got cleaned up that's been sitting in the same spot for over twenty years. Yeah. And there are those weird old dusty posters with the squiggly lines that say "It's up to you." WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?! I don't understand the DMV's obsession with melodrama in its promotional posters. Especially when in actuality it's all a major borefest. Maybe it's because the most current premotional sign in the DMV was made in 1977.

Anyways. The rant is over. My mom got the liscense. Barely. She barely passed. It's because the signs on the test had no words. You had to guess the words on the signs when in umm... REAL LIFE you don't have to guess. Signs are meant to be read. So really, its the test's fault. If you are driving at a speed in which you can only guess what the signs say, you need your liscense taken away IMMEDIATLY.

The New Basement

Oh. My. Goodness. Ever since I entered my parents new Illinois home I have been paranoid. Like paranoid and BEYOND. The spider count has hit 28 I FOUND ALMOST THIRTY SPIDERS. And the worst part is that I'm not using hyperbole. I found 18 in the basement and 10 throughout the house. Two were hanging upside down from the ceiling and I almost walked into them. One was in the sink of the bathroom. Three were scurrying across the floor. I found four on the window panes. As for the terrors in the basement: 6 made their homes on the ceiling. And I found TWELVE in the corners of the floor. Let me tell you a personal encounter with one of these eight-legged ninjas...

So my mother and I were folding linens. The children were playing with a curtain on the floor. All was peaceful. All was well... Then suddenly my mother releases a quick and jarring whisper "TURN AROUND" and I did. But very soon after I really REALLY wished I hadn't. It was a creature. Long legged and hanging quietly from the ceiling: legs twisting and turning like a demonic acrobat. I was paralyzed. But no. It didn't end there. Laying below it were the children, their innocent playing completely contrasting the air of emminent disaster above as the killer slowly descended. "get it" stated my mother but we both knew there was no way in hell I would touch that thing. "Should I get it then" "YES." "Fine, get some tissue from the bathroom." I didn't find any tissue. There was only toilet paper. Also I was slowed down because I didn't know how much toilet paper would be needed. "HURRY. IT WILL GET THE KIDS." I knew it was now or never, I needed tissue NOW. I had to get it for the children. So I quickly collected the toilet paper and handed it to my mother: who proceeded to crush the little booger in between the manufactured buttock wiping paper with masterful precision. She then handed me the result and told me to "flush it." I ran like the wind. I was moving as quickly as possible and yet I still felt a struggling leg scratching the side of my thumb. When it was all over. I was shaking, my heart was racing, and my spirit was breaking. I struggled folding the linens because my mind was constantly playing tricks on me. Every time I pick something up, I expected the worst. It took me a full hour to get over this predicament. 

Spiders are like spiders: the terror they bring doesn't compare to any other abomination. 

Bean is a baby female Tyrannosaurus Rex

Little Bean has become a violent little thing. IT'S SCARY.  She still has that hyper-adorability-super-drive in her. But SHE tells YOU whether being cute is in the question or not. (I don't know what the "question" is. WAIT. YES I DO. "To be cute, or not to be cute" that is the question. OH YEAH. Bonus points for me!)  Now if she wants something she will let you know by hitting you. Cold Heartedly and Mercilessly. Does she have no shame? None at all. SHE'S A BABY. So one night, Bean was with a cousin (let's call him Racecar) and while in his presence, Bean would randomly attack him for no reason whatsoever. Racecar would be walking around minding his own buisness then WHAM! One big shmakaroony TO THE FACE!!!! It's a good thing Racecar is resistant to pain. (no really he his. It's like a super power or something. He could be thrown our of a window of a La Quinta in hotel, fall several stories, GET UP. And keep running. And he doesn't need REM behavior disorder to do it! He must have diamond skin or something!) But Bean had a blast Kung-Fu kicking, gut-punching, and curb-stomping poor little Racecar. (again he can survive anything so it wasn't much of an issue.) IT TURNS INTO AN ISSUE WHEN SHE STARTS BEATING UP WHINEY. (Whiny is a tyrant as well, but it's more passive agressive and Whiney is more fragile and vulnerable than Pinnochio at a bonfire...) So she attacks Whiney and Whiney does what she does best and this causes a huge ruckus in the household. Bean also throws temper tantrums now. (they are not Whiney's "I'm gonna lay on the floor and pretend like there is a beehive inbetween my buttocks" tantrums they are more like "I'm gonna SCREAM A SONIC BOOM and STOMP AN EARTHQUAKE and SCRATCH LIKE A WOLVERINE!) A word of advice when taking care of Bean would be: Tyrannosaurus Rex. Tyranno-tyrant; THIS IS AN UNDERSTATEMENT. Saurus-lizard; SHE'S COLD BLOODED. Rex-King; well more like queen in this case-it doesn't matter what YOU want. Bean's word is LAW in this monarchy! Even if she can't speak yet.

I'M BACK BABY!!!!!!

Yeah. That's right. I kicking into gear again! I am gonna serve you a freshly cooked batch of bloggylicuiousness! So LET'S BEGIN. Hmm... Topics Topics Topics... OH YEAH! DUH! Ok so I'm currently in suburban Illinois (in other words, stranded.) And it's not quite as isolated as Wisconsin in the LITERAL aspect... Buuuuuut. There is no cable and the only internet connection I have is my iPhone. THIS SUCKS. A. LOT. I need to watch the news ON THE TV. Not on my phone! News is meant to be watched on a good ol amurikan televiser! But noooooooo. Cable wants to wait a week. I feel like a character on Lost or something! I'm going insane!!!!! Wait. I'm already insane. Nevermind. This is the perfect environment! I get to work on speeeeeeeech! And again, I still got my iPhone so It's not like I'm completely cut off from the rest of the world... yeah... Tea Parties!!!