Wow. I'm actually OFF THIS WEEKEND. Me and the library are actually parting ways for THREE WHOLE DAYS!
I hope you all enjoy the extra day off, thank a public servant, eat a hot dog or 6 and go for a nice swim.
See you Tuesday!
John Fowles: The Collector (Back Bay Books)
October's Book Club selection. A creeeeepy book for our creeeeeepy meeting at Six Feet Under!
Bernard Cornwell: Agincourt: A Novel
So, I like historical fiction. So I'm trying this. Plus it's like vaguely Shakespearean...
Suzanne Collins: Catching Fire (The Second Book of the Hunger Games)
I got an ARC and you didn't. BWA HAHAH!
Suzanne Collins: The Hunger Games
This book? AMAZING. Stay up all night to finish types of amazing. Read it. Right now. Seriously, go right now and GET IT.
Bob Shea: Dinosaur vs. Bedtime
The latest offering from BFFF, Bob Shea. If you go to YouTube and type this in you can see a great video of Bob reading it to his son. This book is HILARIOUS and a great read-aloud. Buy it for the little dinosaurs in your life!
So, last weekend Babs and I joined MissBalls and a few other folks up in Blue Ridge, GA to go tubing on the Tocoa River.
It was beautiful and beer-tastic, and MUCH less nasty than TUBIN' THE HOOCH! And when I use the word "nasty" I use it both to describe the general level of filth contained in the Chattahoochee river, and also the fact that someone almost dies or drowns every time we tube it.
No, I am not joking. There are spots on that thing that are like effing class 3 rapids that you're going over in like a freakin' inner tube held together with duct tape.
Anyway, while Babs and I were snug in our little mountain loft of love, we naturally began a discussion of the dudes who "found" Sasquatch in Georgia a couple of weeks ago, and how sad it was that no one immediately realized it was a hoax. I mean even the dudes themselves were like "Uh, clearly we were lying. There's no such thing as Big Foot." But like all these people who had like dedicated their lives to the discovering of SASQUATCH were like called to weigh in and whatever. Like, Dr. Jones PhD in Sasquatchology and Daisy BearClaw, with over 30 years of field experience in hunting Big Foot. Like..what? And Babs was all,
Babs: I mean, I don't understand. These people spend thousands and thousands of dollars on equipment and dedicate their lives to finding Sasquatch!
Me: I mean, did Sasquatch kill their mom or something? Because like I get people who you know honest to god believe they've been probed by aliens dedicating their lives to proving the existence of aliens...and I get Ghost Hunters who are trying to prove that our loved ones linger on...but like...why the hard core dedication to Sasquatch Recovery?
We got on the topic of what Sasquatch might be like, and how annoyed he probably gets continually trying to elude capture. So...we came up with The Diary of a Sasquatch. It's brand new, and still getting underway, but please take a look. We hope you enjoy.
OH! And remember the guy who did the fake British accent??? Remember him? If you don't tough luck, because I cannot find that post ANYWHERE. Well, I think he's here all the time and I just don't know it. Because today is now the second day in a row that I've happened to see him like all lurking in the back behind the paperbacks reading. And I mean today? He was like half-way through some Anne McCaffrey paperback, so I feel as though he's been here for like...HOURS. Maybe he's learning dragon calls.
So, if you're a loyal reader of this bloggy you know that people sort of use and abuse me and the library on a regular basis. There's sort of this mentality that everything belongs to them, that they pay for everything, including staff, and they can use/destroy/exploit those things as they choose.
The truth is, the average tax payer gives only 1 penny of every tax dollar to the library a year. So, most patrons don't even cover the cost of a couple of books. Frequently people seem to believe that the library is an office max. And although we put out scratch paper, staplers, three whole punches, tape and pencils for use, these items are not enough. I am currently down to ONE hi-lighter at the RefDesk. One.
So today, this lady who has already monopolized about 30 minutes of our time mishandling the copy machine, asks to borrow a hi-lighter, I say "I'm sorry, but we only have one and I'm sort of loathe to lend it out."
Now mind you, she has already asked for scissors, tape and the stapler, all of which were made available to her. And maybe it was kind of harsh for me to say no. But honestly? We only have ONE. ONE. And this is because of people taking our shit. And we are not an OfficeMax. AND I don't know where this misconception of libraries just having crap loads of money and endless supplies of office materials came from, but trust me. WE DON'T.
So this lady just flips her shit and calls me anal and selfish. And I was like "ma'am, these supplies are for us to use, communal supplies are at the end of the desk." My co-worker kindly stands up for me and says "it's not helpful if you insult us." And this causes the lady to just go over the edge. But you know. Some days you just reach a point where you can't take it anymore. That people treat you like crap. And the lady is insisting that calling someone anal is not an insult, and that this is paid for with tax payers money, and she's sure we have a million hi-lighters in the back, and where's the manager and yadda yadda.
So me and CoWorker are all "go right ahead and get the manager" and of course LowLighter is all "uhhh....." because she has clearly gotten the sign that our manager is going to be on TeamLibrarian. In fact, it was my manager that specifically asked me to stop lending out our supplies.
Like I completely see how librarians become all old, rude and crazy. I mean I am becoming old, rude and crazy! When the hell did I become so INSANE with bitterness and rage that I am denying people hi-lighters?? I also understand that 90% of the people that come in here have NO idea that we have had to go without RUBBER BANDS for weeks because we didn't have enough money in our supply budget to buy rubber bands. We had to get rubber bands DONATED by our Friends of the Library group. And part of me just wants to SCREAM that fact at this lady. But she won't believe me. Because THE GOVERNMENT sits on a thrown of lies. And yeah, kind of lame that I should choose to take a stand over a hi-lighter. But hey-baby steps.
So, no ma'am you can't borrow my fucking hi-lighter.
So, the other night at rehearsal for [NEW PLAY!] PrincessSean and I were relaying a story to....oh wait. Did I tell you guys about the new Lurrrver17? I can't remember if I did or not, so sorry if I'm repeating myself. But not sorry enough that I will bother to search the annals of this blog to find out if I did or not.
Technically, he's Lurrrver14. YES. 14. And he doesn't play MY Lurrrrver. However, his presence in [NEW PLAY!] is quite reminiscent of that of Lurrrver17 (as in he is my new BFF, he behaves like a small monkey, and perhaps MOST convincing was the fact that he drew a picture of a BABY ELEPHANTin my script...psychically linked right?), so everyone has basically begun calling him some variation of Lurrrver17 2.0 or New Lurrrver17...etc. Except with Lurrrver1's ACTUAL name. Not his blogeriffic name. But, for purposes of this blog, we shall dub him...CircusPeanut.
Ok, back to my story.
So, after rehearsal, CircusPeanut insists on waiting for his Dad in the dark scary driveway of [PLACE WHERE WE PERFORM AND SHIZ!] alone rather than inside. So PrincessSean and I are all "No way, we're leaving you alone out here CircusPeanut."
But why? Asks the curious little monkey.
Well, this is where PrincessSean and I relay a wee little story, which I cannot believe I did not share with the blog reading public.
Ok, so during [LAST PLAY!] we were there pretty late, striking the set and cleaning up and what not. And suddenly, a strange creature appears.
This creature was in fact a woman. Who, was clearly homeless, which I know, don't make fun of homeless people 'cause it totally sucks to be homeless, but just bear with me. So she's got like really straggly blond hair and she's wearing some sort of bandanna and wee little shorts and sneakers. She has approximately 7 teeth and skin made of leather. She starts walking around the grounds talking all crazy and we're all "Um...cool!" and then she just disappears back into the darkness.
WELL! A few moments later, a bunch of us are all clustered around the truck chatting when suddenly from right behind us we hear...
And it was literally like one of those moments? Where you turn around and you had no idea someone was behind you and you're all WHAT THE FUCK!?!? Except? This was 10 times worse because she was carrying a piece of ROADKILL in her hands. I will not say whether it was a kitten or a squirrel, because...well, it's too emotionally scarring. So, she's like telling us that this is her pet, and he's going to be just fine, and PETTING IT and SNUGGLING with it. Finally she walks off, all the while telling her sweet little Squirtten that it's going to be fine.
I mean, it's bad enough that I have the crazies all day at work, but must they follow me everywhere?
Ok. So a lady? Just asked me the following:
NewInTown: Excuse me, can you tell me if your notary is Republic?
Also? IJustLOOKLikeWhiteTrash was back in today.
Me (inner screaming): Hi. Can I help you?
IJLLWT: Which number are the Resume books under?
Me: That's going to be in our career collection. 650.
IJLLWT: I want quiet today. NO REHEARSALS.
Me: I'm sorry?
IJLLWT: I need quiet today. NO REHEARSALS.
IJLLWT: You wouldn't understand.
Me: CLEARLY, Lady Batshit. What the fuck are you talking about?
Then she goes into this whole long diatribe about how she can't use computers, and we should've kept the card catalog and look how long it was taking me to look up the number (note, that I have already given her said number) and blah blah blah.
But she doesn't leave. She remains standing and staring at me.
Me: Would you like me to walk you over to that section of the library?
IJLLWT: No. I can do that just GIVE ME THE NUMBER.
Me: Um. 650. In the career collection.
And then she swept off.
And also? I'm getting fired. Like, instantly.
So Friday was TheFriendPreviouslyKnownAsBossLady's 30th b-day. We both happened to be off from work (amazing, in the World of Public Libraries!) so we came up with a great plan on how to spend the day.
We decided to break into the pool at the Downtown Atlanta Hyatt. Oddly enough, breaking into a fancy hotel pool is not yet on my list of Crazy Shiz I've Done for No Reason.
Oh yes. What follows is a play by play of our date with rebellion. Oh, and for the sake of easy typing, I'm finally giving TheFriendPreviouslyKnownAsBossLady a new nickname: Babs.
I pick up Babs at her loft and we head over to Sun in My Bellyfor the most awesomest of awesome breakfasts ever. There we consume delicious things such as softly scrambled eggs with herbed boursin cheese and challah bread french toast (mah FAV) with honeyed ricotta. SOFTLY scrambled. There's no rough scrambling at this place. I also hatch the business plan of a lifetime which I fully intend to follow up on thus making me independently wealthy and fulfilling all of my wee little dreams. Don't even TRY IT. I'm not sharing it with you BLOGOSPHERE. You are full of DREAM THIEVES.
We head over to the East Lake MARTA station (This. Is. MAAARTAAAAAA!) and park Deronte in the scary parking lot. We get on the MARTA trying to touch as little of the train as physically possible and ride it downtown. Upon arriving at the Peachtree Center station, we are apparently SO FAR under the GROUND that we have to take the world's steepest and most terrifying escalator. Really. I'm not kidding. Like we got vertigo on the escalator.
We arrive at the Hyatt. Upon entering the hotel we proceed directly to the elevators so that it appears that we are heading to our room. Babs decides the 17th floor is totally appropriate. The Great Glass Elevator shoots us up the the 17th floor where we promptly decide our fake room is "1704". In case anybody asks. At this point, we're sort of at a loss. There's nothing inside the elevator which indicates which floor the pool is on, nor is there a map on the 17th floor that would show us the same. So, we have to go all the way back down to the lobby. Once back downstairs in the lobby, we find a map that lets us know we need to go down one floor to find the pool. And so we do.
We arrive at the pool to find that a key is needed to enter. FOILED! So Babs makes a grand show of looking through her bag all "Oh dear! Where could I have POSSIBLY left my key!" In the hopes that this stalling will lead to us being able to follow somebody else in. Alas no. We are alone. So, we move to Plan B.
Plan B? I kind of just made up on the spot. Try the Westin! The Westin is across the street from the Hyatt, so we decide we've come this far, we better break into SOMEONE'S pool, and head over there.
The Westin? Way more of The Fancy than the Hyatt. That pool? Key also required. Key required simply to get on the same FLOOR as the pool. So. We decide we'll have a drink at the Sundial while we ponder our options. But, like most bars, it's not open until 2. Stupid people who don't drink on Friday before 2. So? We head back to the Hyatt.
Back at Le Pool de Hyatt! Right about now, it's either sink or swim. Babs is thinking we need to have a drink before she can think straight. Yes, now we're drinking to think straight. We just decide to bite the bullet however and I just walk up to the gate of the pool and see a lovely little family and I say:
Me: Excuse me! I'm so sorry to bother you, but we've been trying to get a hold of my husband for the past 30 minutes to bring us down the key. Would you mind letting us in?
-MOMENT OF TRUTH-
GermanTeen: Sure! No problem!
See? It ALWAYS works when you blame your husband. Because dudes always screw up! Plus? They were European and Europeans hate rules. And also? He was a teenage boy. And teenage boys love me.
We're in! And like, the website had advertised that the pool was surrounded by a "Japanese garden". The "garden" was basically a bunch of rough looking plants in giant pots. Also advertised was a pool bar. The "bar" was actually just a room filled with extra towels. BUT! We would not be soured! So Babs and I totally spent the day at the Hyatt pool using Hyatt towels and drinking Hyatt drinks (purchased from the bar in the lobby). An altogether brilliant achievement.
I know I owed you guys a post today. But my mind is in such an odd place right now.
A good bit of awfulness has struck my small universe. And today? I'm struggling a little bit. But I did want to take a minute to just remind us all to look after one another. To tell each other that how we feel, and to remind people how much they matter. Because when we leave this earth, we won't be reflecting on much else but the people we loved, and who loved us. Our existence is short and fragile, make the most of it in every possible way. I am one of the luckiest people in the world because of those dear to me that I can count among my friends and family. I enjoy making you guys who read this laugh, SO MUCH. It brings me a whole helluva lot of glee to share this stuff with you, and even more that you enjoy it. So thanks for sticking with me today while I reflect a little bit.
That being said, a few words in honor of a friend...
L.T.-Thank you for being there for me when there was nobody else. Thank you for not judging me or lecturing me. Thank you for simply comforting me. Thank you for your "kidney-punching" hugs. They hurt, but at least I knew you meant them. Thank you for hollowing out that pineapple and making me a froo-froo drink on my 21st birthday. It was my first present (and first drink!) of the day, and it was delicious. Thank you for all the compliments you ever gave me, and for your forgiveness and tolerance. Thank you for your sisterhood.
Seriously, how EXCITING was the Men's Gymnastic team last night?? I was SO freakin' fired up. Until I totally fell asleep. And apparently my finally falling asleep was the secret signal for the Japanese to suddenly stop sucking. Whatever though, I want those USA boys all up on my Wheaties boxes. Even if they only bronzed it, they still shocked the shit out of everyone and I liked it.
I don't know about you guys? But I am just about ready to come into my inheritance from a rich, eccentric, relative previously unknown to me. You know, the kind that live a lonely life on the Scottish moors in a big drafty castle filled with priceless artwork...maybe they have some expensive ponies. And at the end of their life they suddenly remember the picture of their favorite dark-eyed great-grand-niece of indeterminate ethnicity and decide that they want to give her the life of ease and comfort that they have enjoyed but never appreciated and then leave everything to her? Me? Yeah. I'm about ready for that.
I am over this shit-box. I mean, the library. Mostly? I'm over the human race as a whole (excepting the Men's Gymnastic team of course). Like this lady just came up to the RefDesk right? And she's all:
IJustLOOKLikeWhiteTrash: Do you still have the old phone books on microfilm?
Me: No ma'am, I'm sorry but we don't have those anymore.
IJustLookLikeWhiteTrash: Well, do you know what you did with them? You used to have them all the way back to the 1900s.
NewBossLady: We never had them back to the 1900s.
IJustLookLikeWhiteTrash: Yes you did. I know you did.
NewBossLady: Well, not during my time.
IJustLookLikeWhiteTrash: Yes, YOU DID. Because I found a phone number from the 1930s.
Me (internal monologue): Right. Which is NOT the 1900s. That would be the 1930s.
NewBossLady: Well. As we said, we no longer keep those.
IJustLookLikeWhiteTrash: YOU DID. I was sitting right in THAT chair. And I met TWO people, and they were sitting in THAT chair. I was doing research for a case. For an ATTORNEY. I have an EXCELLENT memory. That's why I was doing research for AN ATTORNEY. It was 14 years ago.
Me: Oh yes! You know what? You must be 10 zillion times smarter than me! Actually? We have fucking microfilm phone books from before there were EVEN TELEPHONES! I'm just hiding them from you because I don't KNOW ANYTHING. But YOU, you did research for an ATTORNEY 14 years ago, so NATURALLY you must know SO MUCH MORE THAN ME about everything in the known UNIVERSE of things that make you smart!
IJustLookLikeWhiteTrash: Well. Do you have any phone books from the past couple of years?
Me: Yes. (gets them).
IJustLookLikeWhiteTrash: Do you have any from 2003?
Me: This is everything we have.
IJustLookLikeWhiteTrash: Do you have any from 2003?
Me: THIS IS EVERYTHING. THAT'S IT. What the hell is your PROBLEM? Please for the LOVE OF GOD take that dusty stack of crap to a table and get the hell away from me!
I have anger issues. Seriously. I'm tired. My brain freakin' hurts. And like, because I have to work so hard to keep my shit together at work on a daily basis? And I've been working a shit ton harder than usual because we're understaffed? It's like all the drawers in my brain are full? So everything else is getting shoved in the "Junk Drawer" and it's so full of crap that it won't even shut all the way? So like things like "call your grandparents" and "buy kitty litter" are just falling out and floating away in the brain juice. I'm not in a healthy state of mind right now.
And that ILookLikeWhiteTrashLady is sitting at the table banging her pen on the table, over and over and over again, like DRUMMING on the table. LOUDLY.
Ok. So I just snuck a glance at her? And she is STARING at me. Like she is SuperMan laser beaming me with her eyes. I'm thinking that perhaps her ridiculous pencil drumming may be her way of asking for assistance, but I will not answer. It's called getting the fuck up off your ass and asking for help if you need it. I am a human being you terd.
Those of you who have already finished "Breaking Dawn" and are also fans of The X-Files know exactly what I mean by this.
Speaking of? Fans and Haters alike of The Twilight Saga really, really, REALLY need to go to this website. It's basically a hilarious set of recaps of all 4 books. I mean, I'm a little bit pissed I didn't think of it first.
Today's post is going to be an ode to stupid humans. Yes, I realize that I myself am a human, not a dazzling, sparkly, super hot, buttery lilac scented, rock hard ab-possessing vampire, but humor me.
StupidHuman: I am looking for books by Robert Fjekla;g jakl;dadslkdfjasdf.
Me: Can you spell the author's last name please?
StupidHuman: Just tell me where I can find books by Robert Fjeajkdls;afdjslak;.
Me: Uh. Ok. Are they fiction books?
StupidHuman: Kind of.
Me: Well, Fiction books are going to be alphabetical by author over (walks with StupidHuman) in this area.
StupidHuman(returning): I couldn't find any.
Me: What title of his are you looking for?
StupidHuman: His books, actually.
Me: OH MY GOD. WHAT FUCKING BOOK?
StupidHuman: Can you look it up by author?
Me: YES. BUT YOU ARE BARELY SPEAKING COHERENTLY AND HAVE REFUSED TO SPELL HIS NAME.
StupidHuman: His name is Robert Fggjaksl;dajkl;fda. I think it's F-U-L-G-H-A-M. One book is about kindergarten and the other has something with words.
Me: Did you really just say "something with words"? Because I'm about to loose my shit with you lady.
StupidHuman: I looked it up online from home and it said you had two copies. Here, I have the numbers where they should be.
Me: Wait. You already looked these up? And we've been doing this FUCKING song and dance when you could have just said "Can you tell me were 158 is?!!!!"
And not long after this, I'm alone at the RefDesk, and like this weird dude who's here from IT (and you guys Library IT people are like...the WEIRDEST of the weird, I mean think about it) just sits down next to me. I have never met him before.
Me: Uh. Hi.
Dungeons&DragonsLevel15WarlockBabyEaterMagico: Hey. I'm D&DL15WBEM.
Me: I'm Jessica.
D&DL15WBEM: I'm from IT.
D&DL15WBEM: Normally, they send [OtherStrangeDude] out here, but I came today.
D&DL15WBEM: [OtherStrangeDude] actually works for me y'know.
D&DL15WBEM: Yeah. Well, no...actually. He more works WITH me.
D&DL15WBEM: I just thought I would check my email...y'know..until 12, and then go to lunch.
Me: Ok. That's a good idea.
D&DL15WBEM: I have like...5,000 emails!
Me: Whoah. That's...uh...a lot.
D&DL15WBEM: No, like really! Like 5,000 emails! No like 5,000 pages, but literally 5,000 emails! It would probably be like 10,000 pages if I had them all open.
D&DL15WBEM: Ok. I'm going to lunch now.
D&DL15WBEM (not moving): Bye.
D&DL15WBEM: BYE! (runs away)
Next up? I'm helping cover the children's RefDesk because we're short staffed (shocker!The LIBRARY is understaffed!) So I'm down here right? And there's a little KiddieBathroom down here for (and here's the key) the little Kiddies. With like, a Kiddie sized toilet and Kiddie sized sink and blah blah blah. So this lady is here with these two little toddler boys and decides she would like to use the KiddieBathroom instead of walking the extra 20 feet to the BigKidBathroom. So, she goes in and asks the little toddler boys to wait outside. Now, let me just make sure you guys understand that this single restroom opens directly from toilet, to library floor. Like it is in a PUBLIC area. All can see it. So ToddlerBoy just straight up OPENS the bathroom door (um, try LOCKING IT) and there is PeeLady just freakin' poppin' a squat for all to see.
Does she, scream and shut the door? No. Nope. And you guys? I CAN HEAR HER PEEING. That is the situation we are in. All she says is "ToddlerBoy! Close the door!"
PeeLady: I'm using the bathroom!
THEN?? ToddlerBoy leaves, with the door open. Now, PeeLady could SORT of make an argument for not hopping up to close the door mid-stream, but I wouldn't really be convinced. But? She goes through the entire wiping, flushing, pulling up of pants, and washing hands WITHOUT EVER CLOSING THE DOOR. Nope. Just left it wide open.
I mean, WTF??? Is this really freaking HAPPENING??
Again, I have never quite understood why the Public Library and bathrooms are so closely connected.
Oh, and you guys should know? That someone just raised a complaint that the computers were in the public eye, and they should be away from everyone.
FUNNY. But this is a PUBLIC place. You know, FULL OF PEOPLE. It is, after all the PUBLIC LIBRARY. And the internet access is FREE. But hmm, let me think of a way that I can squeeze 20 computers into a cozy little private nook for you so that you can look at your porn without fear of judgement. And you guys? This lady is going BALLISTIC. Like she is running around and screaming and demanding that we put her on a computer in the Children's Area (which you can only use if you're 12 years or under) because she has PRIVATE BUSINESS she needs to conduct and how is she supposed to conduct her PRIVATE BUSINESS in this environment??
Um, YOU'RE NOT supposed to conduct your private business in this environment. God. Piss OFF lunatic.
So, I'm working the dreaded 12-2pm shift on the RefDesk right now. This basically means I will spend the next two hours STARVING. Why there even IS a 12-2 shift is beyond me. I'm a HUMAN ok? I need to eat sometime in between 12 and 2! I'M NOT A LIBRARIAN ROBOT. Damn you. DAMN YOU.
Seriously. I'm fucking hungry right now.
This past Sunday, I was actually NOT at work! It's�a MIRACLE. And I sort of have the tradition of Big Breakfast Sunday, where you know, I actually make a for serious breakfast like eggs and bacon, or pancakes, or waffles...so Husband asked for some pancakes, and I was happy to oblige. I will say? That I don't think I've ever seen anyone consume as many pancakes as Husband did. I mean, it was borderline disgusting. I'm not gonna lie. I mean, I don't even know where all that PancakeMatter went. I was just sort of like staring at him open mouthed as he cleared an easy 12 pancakes. Anyway! So, we're cleaning up after breakfast, and Husband is wiping down the table, and all the sudden I hear him just...whelp in pain. And I'm all,
Me: Whoah! What happened?
Husband (hopping): I stepped on something!
Me (rolling eyes): Don't be such a baby. You probably stepped on like...a nugget of cat food.
Husband: No seriously! I hurts like a BITCH.
Now. If any of you KNOW Husband personally, you know that he is the quintessential dude. As in, he watches and obsesses over sports, COACHES sports, makes lewd jokes, forgets to shave, lives in gym shorts, puts his feet where they should not go, enjoys yard work, etc. But this hides another side of Husband. The side of Husband that cannot handle pain...at all. The side of Husband that merely THINKS about a needle and freaks out and looses his shit. The side of Husband that is irrationally petrified of alien abduction.
Yes. Aliens. But that story is for another day.
So at this point, while he's hopping madly about the kitchen dramatically howling with pain and making up swear words, I'm sort of like...please. But then, I saw the WORLD'S MOST GIANT TACK! Well, actually it was like this weird pin with like a long scary needle-thing coming out of it that came out of the bottom of our chair. So, I drag Husband into the bathroom to clean off his foot and put a band-aid on it and what not. And you guys? Husband LOOKS at the thing that has gone into his foot and TOTALLY LOOSES IT. He starts like, laughing insanely, to the point of loosing his breath, and is all "WOOOO! I'm getting light-headed! WOOOO! HAHAHAHAHAH!" And I'm just staring at him like...really?
It? Was a little bit awesome. Because, his craziness was not from the pain, or from the actual small puncture wound to his foot, it was from the terror he felt of the WMGT.
Not entirely atypical for a Sunday morning at my house.