A vacation recap is coming, I swear, with pictures. (Not that you CARE, but you should know that one of the stories involves me being mocked mercilessly by a tour guide, so that will probably be enjoyable for you.)
But before I get to that because I am lazy and don’t want to sort through all the pictures because that is WORK I have a couple quick things from the last few days to tell you.
Me to friend, “I am SO MAD that [bad thing] happened on [season finale of favorite show that we always discuss with each other whenever we meet].
Friend: “…I haven’t seen that episode.”
Me: “I AM GOING TO THROW MYSELF ON A SWORD NOW.”
Seriously, guys. There is NO WAY that I don’t come out of that story looking like an asshole.
COME UP WITH ONE, AND I WILL GIVE YOU A PONY.
Confession: I make “your mom” jokes. But only when they don’t make any sense/aren’t offensive in any way. And usually when someone can’t find something needed at work. Because I think it’s funny to be nonsensical.
I’m telling you all this to set you up for this scenario:
An employee from another store, a guy I don’t know really well, but well enough to joke around with, asked me where he might find the hose clamps at the store we were inventorying.
Not being from that store, and thus not familiar with it, I make a joke.
“YOUR MOM is a hose clamp.”
…Do you see where exactly I went wrong with that? Because I did not. Until it came out of my mouth.
Yes, I did turn a SPECTACULAR SHADE OF RED.
Yes, I DID walk away. QUICKLY.
YES, I CONTINUE TO BE AN UNINTENTIONAL ASSHOLE.
My mom and I were talking about the planets because TJ (Read. her. immediately. if you aren’t already.) was talking on twitter about how we are so old that we’ll have to tell our children that we used to have 9 planets and they were going to make fun of us (I would post a screenshot but I have NO IDEA how to do that on this operating system), and I was complaining to mom that Pluto was my FAVORITE because because it was so twee and I felt like I had to take care of it when I was little, all Little Prince-style.
And my mom goes, “Is that the one named after the dog?”
And I’m all, “ARE YOU FUCKING SHITTING ME RIGHT NOW.”
And she’s all “No? Not the dog?…Was that Goofy then?”
And then I had an APOPLEXY and I HAD TO ASK MY MOTHER, THE WOMAN WHO GAVE BIRTH TO ME, “WHAT DO THE NAMES OF ALL THE PLANETS IN OUR SOLAR SYSTEM HAVE IN COMMON.”*
She answered “Ummm, they are named after razors, candy bars, and cars?…So, product placement?”
I’M FUCKING ADOPTED YOU GUYS.**
*She guessed Greek gods, finally. WRONG, MOTHER. ROMAN.
**MY REAL MOTHER IS OBVIOUSLY A PRINCESS. WHO MARRIED AN ASTROPHYSICIST.