perpetual_motion: big damn hero (not who you're thinking) (fuck yeah iron man)
I've been fighting a massive head cold since Wednesday, and I currently sound like Kathleen Turner: very smoky, very raspy. Which lead to this moment:

Me: "I'm researching presses, and I can't find a mission statement for the big one. It links back to the main corporate page and doesn't even give me a decent sound byte."

The Husband: "You sound pissed."

Me: "I'm not."

TH: "You totally sound pissed."

ME: "It's my voice."

Kinda hoping the voice stays until tomorrow. It doesn't hurt and is very fun.
perpetual_motion: tony and steve are besties (totally holding hands behind the shield)
ME: [Explaining women's t-shirt sizes] "They get cut a bunch of different ways, so I need to see the sizing chart before I know what size to order."

THE HUSBAND: "Man, boobs are the worst thing ever." [beat] "When they're not the best thing ever."

I concur.

Also, we're buying a matching set of these

[If you come by tomorrow, it will be a different shirt. We're buying adorable panda bears.]
perpetual_motion: electronics gone sentient is terrifying (goddamned mouthy bastard)
The Husband: You know, the weird thing about being married to you, is now I get fic ideas when I watch shows."

And then he pitched me, "Pam cheats on Jim in New York and comes back to Scranton because she feels bad. Because you hate how she came back, and that thing with the guy who tells her to stay could totally read like they're a thing."

::evil laugh::

Lookit him! Pitching ideas! Interesting ideas!

He does refuse to write it, but still. Ideas!
perpetual_motion: Booster and Beetle 4-evah! (don't laugh don't laugh don't laugh)
Because we seem to do these in couplets.

Background: We're watching King of the Hill on Netflix, and Connie says she'd rather be covering debate tournement finals:

THE HUSBAND: Do you know why that's wrong?
ME: ...It's a weekday?
ME: ...Because no one cares?
[commence tickling; The Husband was a high school debater.]
ME: Truce!
THE HUSBAND: Okay. Now, can you tell me why?
ME: I really can't.
THE HUSBAND: Because it's daytime. Debate Tournaments only go on at night.
ME: Oh! Because they don't come out in the day time!
[commence more tickling]

Worth. IT.
perpetual_motion: hang yourself please (Default)
ME: "Make me a drink."
THE HUSBAND: "Are you sure?"
ME: "I haven't had a vicodin all day."
THE HUSBAND: [hysterical laughter]
ME: "No! I mean I haven't taken one today, so I should be okay to have a drink!"
THE HUSBAND: "I know; it just came out wrong."

The context: I was given vicodin for my knee, and I haven't taken one in about 36 hours, and you're not supposed to drink on vicodin, and I figure that a 36-hour window is wide enough that it's safe again. I am not--repeat: AM NOT--a vicodin addict.

I don't have the cane for it.
perpetual_motion: guy's butt and kyle's embarrassment OTP (jesus christ guy we talked about this)
Before you read, read This XKCD and the roll-over.

ME: [Laughing at the roll-over.] "Oh, that's good. [I attempt to sing some lines of Tik Tok but fail.]

THE HUSBAND: [Sings the rest of the verse.] "What's after that?"

ME: "I don't know. It always turns into "Poker Face" in my head."

THE HUSBAND: [Going to youtube] "You know what this means."

ME: "We're gonna listen to "Poker Face?""

THE HUSBAND: "Guess again."

ME: "You hate me?"

And "Tik Tok" is currently playing. Because HE put it on. ::headdesk::
perpetual_motion: guy gardner's proof of badass (lol whut whut in the butt)
So, The Husband was getting money from my coat pocket and found my blue lantern ring, which he then treated like a piece of evidence in an affair (not an uncommon joke with us).

HIM: "What is this? Is this a ring? Where did you get a ring?"
ME: "It's a Blue Lantern ring. I'll give you a kiss goodbye if you tell me which Lantern it belongs to."
HIM: "The Blue Lanterns."
ME: "That is not what I meant!"
HIM: "You said I had to name the Lantern with the Blue Lantern ring. It's the Blue Lanterns!"
ME: "The emotion, numbnuts."
HIM: "Love?"
ME: "No."
HIM: "The Vagina Havers?"
ME: "That's the Star Sapphires."
HIM: "The Star Sapphires?"
ME: "Yeah."
HIM: "No way. They're not actually called that."
ME: "It's an all-female Lantern corps."
HIM: "Where's my kiss goodbye?"
ME: "Why would you get a kiss goodbye?"
HIM: "I named the Lantern corps!"
ME: "You did not!"
HIM: "Did too! You said it was the Star Sapphires."
ME: "What? No. The Star Sapphires are purple. Blue isn't them. Blue is something else?"
HIM: "...Heart?"
ME: "Lanterns, not Captain Planet's terrorists."
HIM: "So, no kiss?"
ME: "No kiss."

So he did this weird/creepy/hilarious slow motion bit of holding up the Orange Box (it's a collection of video games if you don't know) and giving me a huge, open-mouthed smile and a super-slow thumbs up. I'd GIF it if I could.
perpetual_motion: hang yourself please (Default)
To understand this quote, you have to understand two things: I have barely played any of the Guitar Hero/Rock Band games, and I really, really hate it when someone tries to "help" by touching my controller.

ME: [Having a mild spazz because an easy song uses a the blue key] "The fuck? What the fuck?"
THE HUSBAND: "I didn't think the easy level used the last two keys."
ME: "Well, looks like it does."
HIM: "Yeah. I could help. I could reach over and push the buttons. I know how much you love that."
ME: "I would murder you."

That being said, anyone have tips for syncing a non-auto sync guitar to an HD TV? The Husband feels the guitars are lagging. As I can barely play anything beyond the "warm up" mode, I have no opinion on the matter.
perpetual_motion: hang yourself please (Default)
Me: [Quoting from my paper.] "There must be proof that some portions of comic books have to exist in order for comic books to be defined as comic books. These criteria have to be non-negotiable. Without them, one must be able to prove that comic books would not be comic books."

The Husband: [deep, happy sigh]

Me: "What?"

The Husband: "You're writing epistemology, and you don't even know it." [beat] "It's sexy."

Me: "Okay. But does it work in the bounds of the paper?"

The Husband: "Yes, that's what I'm saying." [beat] "Now say 'A is A'."

Me: "A is A."

The Husband: [happy sigh]
perpetual_motion: Booster and Beetle 4-evah! (don't laugh don't laugh don't laugh)
The Husband: "How do you write a 4,000 page poem?"
Me: "Well, first you shove your head up your ass."

Thanks, Wiki. I wanted to be a goof tonight.

[And I just noticed I misspelled "marriage" in my tag. Well, shit.]
perpetual_motion: guy gardner's proof of badass (lol whut whut in the butt)
[The Husband was putting away ice and noticed a leftover pie crust from Thanksgiving.]

HIM: "What should we do with the other pie crust?"
ME: "Make a pie."
HIM: [A LOOK] "Thank you, Wisenheimer. What kind of pie?"
ME: "Eatin' pie."
HIM: "It's not a pig."

I keep swearing to him I'm going to start blogging examples of us talking like dorks, so here's the first one. And now, a vintage one:

[Driving down the street, The Husband spots a mailman.]

HIM: "You know, you hit them, letters fly everywhere. Like feathers."
ME: "Quit learning things from cartoons!"


perpetual_motion: hang yourself please (Default)

October 2013



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