I’m picking out a Thermos for you

My brother, Mittens, and I recently watched Steve Martin’s The Jerk, a classic staple of comedic cinematography that our parents would not stop quoting, so we sat down to see why. Now we get it.

The scene that surprised Mittens the most was the romantic walk on the beach that Martin and Bernadette Peters’ characters share, because the song (Tonight You Belong to Me) was actually quite lovely, and went almost uninterrupted by something funny. I had heard the song before while working (briefly) at a bar called Insomnia (before I was fired for sleeping in… sigh) on a CD of ukulele songs, and had fallen quite in love with the vocal harmonies. So now that we’ve had proper inspiration, Mittens and I will join our sister‘s quest to learn to play the ukulele and form the world’s tinniest sounding band. What we really want is to add the almost-ten-year-old sister in on the upright bass to round out the sound.

Please welcome to the stage: Biggie and the Smalls!

Our first song would be Baba O’Riley, because we all agree that is the best song, and also it’s ironic because only one of us is currently a teenager. Also the beginning would sound hella awesome on ukuleles and the bass could possibly be played with a hammer.

EMI GET ON THIS THIS IS SOME GOOD STUFF

Living in the sunlight, loving in the moonlight

…having a wonderful time.

(Thought I’d ruin all your good-weather moods with a little earworm-maker known as Tiny Tim. Just try getting it out of your head.)

Today I had the most wonderful 19C picnic. Early spring (still technically winter), grass sprouting, sun warming the earth (and waking up the bees… oh, the bees), and two out of three of my siblings in the park near my house with a manwich apiece. Well, my brother’s was the true Dagwood, but he’s also 17, tall, and skinny, so that’s to be expected.

Anyway, I brought my trusty guitar Monty along with us and set up an impromptu jam with my brother. Baby sister said we should get a busking licence, because “well, you’re not doing anything, and he’s not doing anything… except lie around the house and be lazy. He should get off his butt and do music.” Which was her way of telling her plenty-older siblings to get a job. I WILL WHEN YOU DO

So there you have it. Summer employment opportunity in an entrepreneurial musical venture as coerced by an almost-ten-year-old. Sounds almost fancy when you put it that way.

Love it.

Conversation with my brother after hearing about the name “Lefteriya”:

Me: Wanna go to the lefteriya?

Mittens: I’d prefer the rightstaurant.

Me: What about the ambideli?

Mittens: They’d serve both of us.

More blogs, dieting, technology, OCD and rats: A day in the life

So, statistically it seems that the more posts I write, the more views I get. Weird, that. My blogging’s kinda fallen flat over the holidays, but one in a slew of resolutions I made up last week is to write more. Easy when I don’t have a job. A, so that my blog becomes somewhat interesting (the more posts, the more likely one of them will be interesting) and B, so that I can get ready for grad school (if I’m accepted, and spend the next few months till September weeping alternately in joy and despair). (Come to think of it, that’ll be the response no matter WHAT the outcome, so I may as well start stocking up on tissue now…)

Another resolution was to lose the 14 pounds I’ve gained since summer. So far, not going very well. Granted, I only resolved this last Tuesday, after eating an entire bucket of pulled pork poutine and having my stomach decide that was all I was allowed to eat for the day; but since last Tuesday I’ve lost 3 pounds and decided that Tuesdays will not only be comic days, but cheat days. This will entirely cause me to remember to update comics regularly, as I most likely stuff my face with as many carbs will fit at a time. Carbs = comics. And possibly coronaries, depending on which oil is used to fry them mercilessly.

A resolution I really should make is learning not to be afraid of technology. My beloved 7 year old phone died by beheading almost a year ago, and the phone I’ve had since (still a flip phone) has encountered more physical damage than any phone known to mankind, yet – and this is the strange part – I have not once dropped, hit, soaked, crushed, stepped on or even so much as dampened it. Yet despite my care of it, it is currently being shipped back to Nokia to have its USB charging port reinserted. Yes, that’s right – the charging port fell out. How does that even happen? Especially to a phone that still has its plastic screen protector still on it. Anyway, the point of this long paragraph is to explain that I am terrified of the loaner smartphone they’ve given me. QWERTY keyboards don’t work with just thumbs! My nails make an odd clicky sound that I hate and the screen is so big and what protects it when it doesn’t have a cover to flip down? A text from my brother derides me first for being a hipster, then when the truth is revealed, for just being too plain stupid to use this thingummybobber. My denture glue is enough technology for me.

One more final resolution that I just came up with now: stop being so damn OCD. I once read a book where a girl developed extreme OCD and then through sheer will power became OCD about losing her OCD. For example, she would dare herself NOT to touch the doorknob three times before leaving a room, and eventually, NOT touching doorknobs became her tendency. Unless she had to use them, I assume. I also forget which book this is, so I don’t remember how it ends, but if she ends up dying of bacterial infection after NOT washing her hands constantly, this resolution’s off.

(Bonus points to anyone who can spot the OCD tendency I ignored in this post… I’m off to a good start!)

P.S. Rat update… the stripey dominant son is named Buster, the spotty adventurous son is named Bowser, and the cinnamon blue hooded Papa used to be named Barney (but for some reason I kept calling him Bryan) so now his name is Babydaddy. Nice and simple and alliterative.

My siblings

We’ve bin talkin’ fe’ th’lass ‘alf houh wiv varyus kinds o’Bri-ish accens. Vissus wot we do when we get togevvah. Woi? Woi no’, s’wot I ahsk.

Tim has been humming “YYZ” for, like, an hour.

Quotes from Tim this evening:

My mouth is like a party. Where everyone’s knitting. It feels like a 60s rug.

Let’s be mature about things. Penis.

UUUUUUUUSER. That’s a big deal in Tron, asshole.

ZOMBEHS

I’m not sure if I know about bird sex.

Well, my pants are halfway down my ass right now…

I dreamed of smoking up with dad. Kind of awesome, but not really. It’s like, if I’m gonna smoke up, dad’s not gonna be my first choice.

What?! That’s worse than people I know who can’t beatbox and they say “boots in cats”!

Let’s count ass cheeks… One.

What the hell was that?? Oh… Charlotte’s money.

That’s so great, my ass cheeks just applauded.

I’m going to shut up now. I’m going to start throwing Santa at you. Where’s your diet coke?

I tried to say you’re welcome, but I couldn’t burp long enough.

I’ll sing to you about creepy shit.

And a bonus quote from Alex:

Is that a Diet Coke I see?
If it is I’m gonna be
HAP-PYYYY!!

Eugoogley

Before our mum went to bed, she was googling the three of us. Awkward, I know. We came to discover that my brother’s name, when translated from Vietnamese, is Hybrid Heart. Wicked. And so she doesn’t feel excluded and yell at me, my sister’s name translated from Vietnamese becomes Alex Future. WHO MAKES A BETTER SUPERHERO. I DON’T KNOW.

Also, turns out my brother has a lot of fans who think he’s hot. Even more awkward.

They’re humming the Recess theme song now, and it’s weird. (My brother and sister. Not my brother’s fans.)

Home for the holidays

We’re listening to a food show mashup where they took all the innuendo and put it in a two minute sequence. Food has quite a lot of innuendo.

This is a family bonding moment.

Blog Party!

My siblings and I are all home for the holidays.

My siblings and I are all addicted to the Internet and our respective blogs:

Alex: http://tiltherewasrock.tumblr.com
Tim: http://itsnotmywordsthatyoushouldfollow.tumblr.com

My siblings and I are all, therefore, sitting in the living room on different computers, blogging at each other and leaving weird comments in each others’ inboxes. This is a blog party. These are their stories. *KUNG KUNG*

“I’m going to use bad grammar. And I’m going to use… wrong… grammar bits.”

Alex understands my pedantic attitude towards the use of the English language. She doesn’t care.

“So Kim Jong-Il won’t be able to look at things?!”

Tim gets upset about the loss of a tumblr account.

“We need a tape recorder for this conversation.”
“We need an actual recorder.” *plays the air-recorder*

Alex has questionable taste in musical instruments.

“Oh good, while I was tagging, ‘weird’ came up automatically.”

My blog understands me.

Me: Tim, say something funny.
*Tim gives me the most withering oh-please glare*
Alex: Why is it that in some places gay people aren’t allowed to marry, but Nickleback is still allowed to make albums? Think about it.
Tim: Alex… what.

Alex shows how much she loves creating awkward silences.

“Why did I just write Napoleon, I meant to write Nickleback”

I show questionable typing abilities and a total lack of concensgfertation

to be continued…

My li’l brudder!

He blogged this, so I assume it’s safe to reblog it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lpJblwwtkTY&feature=player_embedded

It’s my Mittens!! He’s so talented. Give his video some views. 🙂