Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Imagine two people making love on a unicorn ... My life is the opposite of that.

Funny stuff, yo:

As I was purchasing some delish chocolates for Mother's Day (okay, and some for myself, too) at a local shop, Kristen perused the greeting cards. She shoved one in my face.
Kristen: Ugh! How come they always have my birth flower on sympathy cards?
Me: Because they're sorry you were born?
The clerk snickered.

K-Lo and I wrote another hit song. And by "wrote," I mean we just sang things that made us laugh, and by "song," I mean it's only a few lines. It's a hip-hop song about robots wanting some lovin'. It goes something like this:

"I was all like, 'Bleep Bleep.' And she was like, 'Bloop Bloop.' Then I said, 'Baaabeeeee, we got to get to get togethaaaa...'"

That's all we've got. I picture Andy Samberg singing it.

The other day as I was leaving for work, my uncle Don tried to get my attention.
Don: Hey, Dad? Uh, I mean April.
Me: *deep voice* Yes, son?
He smirked, then said whatever he'd planned on saying.
Me: *deep voice* Well, just try your hardest, son. I'll be proud of you.
As I was walking out the door, I began singing "Cat's in the cradle with the silver spoon ..."
Don: Great song! Who sang it? (he always knows who sang every freaking song and always quizzes me)
Me: I don't know.
Don: I'll give you a hint. The initials are H.C.*
Gramps: Hillary Clinton?

As Kristen and I drove through Eau Claire this weekend, some creep face swerved in and out of lanes in a jackass manner. I blurted out, "You douche puppet!" Then Kristen and I laughed a lot, and she sang the McDonald's theme song as "Bah da buh buh buh, I'm coinin' it!" She later decided she gets credit for the insult since she yelled "Coin'd!" before me.

We went to the Book It meeting in Rice Lake Saturday. I had warned Kristen that several of the group members were ten thousand times smarter than us, but she still didn't feel properly warned. After they discussed their reading material and gave us history lessons ...
(Sarah: ... four thirteenth-century sisters born into the minor nobility of medieval Provence. Although their origins were not as lofty as many others, Marguerite married Louis IX of France, Eleanor was wed to England's Henry III, Sanchia was married to Richard of Cornwall, who eventually was crowned king of Germany, and Beatrice assisted her husband, Charles of Anjou, in seizing the Sicilian throne.
Jonathan, Sarah's husband: So ... it's about royalty?
Sarah: I will beat you bloody.)
... Kristen whispered to me, "I feel like a moron." That about sums it up. :D

*The correct answer is Harry Chapin. If you were thinking it was Cat Stevens, you'd be in the majority but wrong. According to Stevens' Web site, he never performed the song, "not live, not in the studio, not even privately." Now you're a little less dumb for reading my blog. You're welcome.

5 comments:

Kristen said...

I hurt my throat twice because I laughed hard while reading how funny we are.

You forgot about how at the bookit group they were talking about the term "mass genocide" and earlier I asked about "jean jacekt." I am so smart. s-m-r-t.

Kristen said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
atsirk said...

Where did you get the title for your post? If I had been drinking milk, it would have been out my nose!!

I can totally picture you guys doing robot moves while "singing" your song. It makes me laugh so much. (Again, milk would have been shooting out my nose!!)

You guys need to start a reality show. Start with YouTube - it will be an instant success and then there will be network talks....You'll be stars!!

April said...

K-Lo, I forgot that! And twice in the last two days I heard some talking about "jean jackets." LOL!

CK, the quote is from some blog called Last Night's Texts or something like that. I couldn't NOT use it! :D

Rachie said...

Atsirk is so right. Between the greeting cards and the YouTube videos, you two could be rich and famous! (In the words of Morrissey, "When your name's with the best, will my name be on your guest list?" That means "Don't forget me when you're famous, jerks." ;))