Sunday, March 23, 2008

Great Balls of Fire (teehee, Balls.)

Why does my mom insist on telling me everything about all the sports she's watching. Does she not notice that I'm allergic to sports? I played that one season of basketball in eighth grade, and when I say "played" I mean "sat on the bench," and I only joined the team because my two best friends did. I sat out and sucked my inhaler the entire season.

I just don't get how she hasn't caught on yet. I'm not a sports gal, Mom. You got two girly girls for children. My brother and I just aren't sports people. I can recognize a basketball in a lineup of other balls, but the only balls Darin could pick out are his own. I'm pretty sure he knows them pretty well.

My brother is the funniest human alive. We were at Home Depot last night (after a successful snarf-fest at Red Lobster mmmm....) and we walked around the store talking like this:

C: "So this guy I know, we've in the past dated, well I wouldn't say dated as much as I would say watched movies and fooled around, but that doesn't matter. This guy, he exists, and we talk online. He can't get over the fact that I find dates more easily than he does. I'd like to think it's my winning personality but honestly, I'm pretty sure it's my boobs. Guys go: 'Oooo look. That one has boobs! I'd do her!.' Wait, let me correct that. Guys don't even need to know she has boobs, they just need to know she exists to want to do her. Girls just don't think like that. They think about warm and fuzzy things like personalities, smiles, eyes, etc. Guys are pigs."
(At this point we pass a store employee who clearly checks me out right next to the WIRE FENCING. Me, talking about why I get dates easily because of my boobs proves said point.)
D: "Yeah, I'm like that, I see a guy and I think, "I'd do him.""

Then at Hobby Lobby we were looking for blank photo frames. We found ONE. Only one. I couldn't believe Hobby Lobby only had ONE blank wooden frame in the acceptable 12x12 size I needed. Anyways, my brother and I are browsing the aisles, and in the sticker aisle, our conversation goes something like this:

D: "Ooo I should get this for Mike."
C: "Mike your roommate? Why does he like Superman or something?"
D: "Ya, it's his Facebook picture."
C: "Oh, I wouldn't know. I'm not his Facebook friend. But Brian friended me. He thinks I'm hot."
D: "Duh, I know."
C: "You know that he friended me, or that he thinks I'm hot, cuz I was being vain."
D: "Both."
C: "Oh, he's a little young, but a nice kid."
D: "I know, and he doesn't mind too much when I hit on him."
C: "Haha, does he realize you're hitting on him?"
D: "Duh, I asked him to take a shower with me in Chinese."
C: "Did he understand? How do you take a shower in Chinese? What did he say?"
D: "He said no."
C: "Good call."

Then Darin and I skipped all the way from Hobby Lobby to the ShopKo because we could. This is why my Dar-Dar is my favorite person.

D: Say something Lesbionic.
C: Home Depot.
D: Oh my God, You are a lesbian!

Thank you, Will and Grace for fueling whole conversations between my brother and I.

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