Showing posts with label funny. Show all posts
Showing posts with label funny. Show all posts

Monday, March 5, 2012

Life's A Bitch Sometimes


And that's pretty much the one truth of the universe. Life sucks, and then one day we die, and hope the afterlife doesn't suck too. I mean, really. Wouldn't that just suck ass?

You get to heaven to find out that the rules there are nothing like you thought they would be? No happiness forever, but instead living by some crazy ancient codes of conduct that involve you being forced to do absoultely nothing, not even play, on Sunday's, and you can't eat most foods...

Or for the majority of people, you get there and find out that the Muslims or the Jews had it right and you were the one worshipping the wrong god. Or, an even bigger blow! You "wake up" on the shores of a river and don't have the money to get across, and when you finally beg your way, this guy won't let you through the gate!
The three heads of Cerberus: Serious Bidniss, Apathy, and OHHAIIDARE!
No, but seriously, this post isn't about me being all emo some more. Pfft, I'm over that shit now. I'm doing my best to be happy, fuck it all and to hell with my depression. This post is about life sucking for other people, most specifically these two.
These guys are friends of mine and the Hedgehog, they've come up in at least one post before... I'll get that picture, too. Mostly so you can see the difference between pictures and such.

See, they're engaged, and back when I first met them lived together in Charlotte going to a graphics school. They're great, absolutely great, funny and kinda awesome, and we can talk for hours about nothing. It's cool being able to be friends with another couple, and it's probably one of the benefits of having a girlfriend that the Hedgehog didn't think of...? I mean, people change when they're in relationships that last longer, and guys especially, and suddenly you can't just hang out with your single friends because you realize they're crazy as shit.

For me though, it's nice being able to be friends with someone who's friends with my Hedgehog, I get to know more about him, since he's not the kind to really talk about himself much.

Anyway, onto the sucky part. So despite being sweet and awesome, she... Wait, I really need names for them if I'm going to keep going with this... Um... Dammit.

I could call her Giggles, because she laughs easily, but that makes me feel like an idiot, and... I am not, I repeat NOT, calling him Ginger. Screw that... I normally give people nicknames I either call them in real life or that they kinda earn by being themselves. So I guess I can't name them just yet...

Anyway, they were staying with his mom down here because she got kicked out of her mom's house, and despite cooking and cleaning, his mom said she didn't do anything around the house and kicked her out. That's the short of it at least, the long involves them being held hostage for five hours while his mom demanded his fiancee's engagement ring...

So now they're both staying with us. Currently sleeping on the floor to be precise. I've been there before, so I know the blow to your pride you get... Hopefully we can get them up on their feet soon... Now to get back to looking for a job.

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Diabolical Diabotical Diabetic

The other night the Hedgehog tried to say diabolical... and it came out diabotical; so then he rolled with it, and now we have this: an angry robot made of sugar.


Check Out This Cake!

So I've been hard at work on the Oh Bento! comic this weekend and all of today... Some funny stuff has happened, but honestly? The Hedgehog is funny so often that it's hard to pick something that he does and do a post about it... not to mention a lot of it is weird humor you just have to be there for it. Some of it is even hard to remember afterwards, no matter how hard I laughed at the time... So, instead... Here's something I worked hard on for the webcomic for you guys to enjoy.


Saturday, December 17, 2011

Dynamite In A Biscuit


"French food: it's dynamite in a biscuit." -  The Blonde One



I AM HAPPY CHEESE!

The other night the Hedgehog and I were eating grapes and cheese and watching In The Name of The King... While he wasn't looking I took the tip of the knife and carved this happy face into a chunk of cheese... Then turned and shoved it in his face while yelling, "I AM HAPPY CHEESE!"

Thursday, December 15, 2011

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

My Drunken Post

Well, tonight me and the Hedgehog finally celebrate my 21st birthday… by making drinks from the Drunken Moogle. Come on, I mean, video game inspired drinks? And us being huge ass nerds? Hells yeah we’re gonna drink video game inspired cocktails! If I’m drinking it’s gonna be that!

We tried the Anti-Sora drink… The Hedgehog liked it, but I hate grape, so… And there was this Gears of War drink with Cheerwine… but there was too much vodka… It was way too bitter.

The Pokemon drinks are awesome, though. The Squirtle shot was intense, but coconuty afterwards, and the Wartortle was… Yummy.

So far I’m feeling pretty good, not too fuzzy in the head. We’re watching Troy, only I keep sprouting all sorts of mythology. Curse you mythology class and my own paganism and love of mythology! Curse you and my now fuzzy arms!

Okay, so I’m starting to feel a little weird now… I’ve drank alcohol before, and I can honestly say: I like the warmth, I hate the way it makes my body feel. The first time I drank anything my dad offered me some cheap red wine. That stuff tasted like what it was: rotten grapes and moldy old bread. I had some pink champagne when my cousin got married, too… it was bitter. On my 18th birthday me and Jess split a bottle of Smirnoff, and another time we drank Mike’s Hard Lemonade. I didn’t finish all mine, and when I went home the next day the Girl-Fiend spiked it with vodka and I finished it. I got past giggly and all the way to sits-there-and-stares. That was when my dad was in jail.

Another time me and Lulu split a six pack of mango stuff. She had to make me drink a second bottle because apparently when I start drinking I don’t like to keep drinking. It makes my chest feel uncomfortable and my uterus gets all hot and angry, then my jaws feel funny… Finally I’ll feel normal, but that’s only after I get buzzed, and then I still feel kinda odd in my muscles. Oh! And on Thanksgiving last year I drank a little too, the Girl-Fiend made me do it. Spiked my drink.



Well, apparently I’m okay enough to type. So…

Cerberus


Sunday, December 11, 2011

Seriously. I Have The Best Boyfriend. Ever.

So when the Hedgehog came home, he looked like he was preggers, and told me to turn around. So I did. Then he told me to cover my eyes, so I did… then he said to put my head in a pillow… so I did. It took him a bit, but finally I was allowed to turn around, and when I did he had a cake in one hand and a giant Simba plush in the other. Also, he had a new book: The Red Pyramid.
Once, I told him this story about how when I was two I had this baby Simba plush that I loved to death; I carried it everywhere, and then one day I left it over at my dad’s boss lady’s house because she used to watch me while he worked, and I never got it back. See, dad quit his job and went to work with the lady’s husband. The fact the Hedgehog remembered this story and brought me the plush just… it…
Made me the happiest Kit ever.

Saturday, December 10, 2011

Geeze Lady, Stalk Much?

I swear, the Hedgehog’s boss is a stalker… While we were out having my birthday lunch at this really awesome Mexican place with amazing food, which was only happening because he had to go in at 5’o clock despite having asked for that day off in advance, the phone rang… and rang… and rang… Finally I snapped at him and told him to answer it. Guess what? It was his boss lady… and she wanted him to come in an hour early. Oh, it gets worse, too… She said if he hadn’t answered the phone, she would’ve sent someone over to the apartment to get him.

No one would've been home, anyway...

The Dog Intelligence Test

So me and the Hedgehog were talking about the thoughts that must go through a dog as they’re failing the Dog Intelligence Test… It started off with what they would think when the blanket went over them,
"Where'd I go?"
"I only have one question: Do I eat the cup first?"
And it ended the cup test, where you put a dog treat under a cup, when the Hedgehog said something so funny that I laughed so hard I drooled on his head.


My Awesome Birthday Story


My mom used to tell me a really pretty story about how I was born; or, at least pretty as far as my mom was concerned. She was a really blunt woman who never beat around the bush and said things the way they were; the result is that she tried to tell a pretty little tale, but a few weird details kept sneaking in there that just sort of… added a sense of wrongness. So here is my story the way my mom used to tell it to me, with pictures drawn by me.

“I wanted a little girl so badly, I used to pray all the time. ‘Please God, just give me a little girl.’ Every day I would pray, I wanted you so badly. A little girl I could  love and dress up and take care of. And then one day I was outside, looking up at the sky, wishing on the stars for you, and I saw it: a shooting star. I closed my eyes and I wished so badly for you. ‘Please, please give me a little girl. It’s all I want.’ A few weeks later, I was pregnant with you.



“See, me and your daddy had been trying for a while to get pregnant again after we had to give up your brother; we wanted a child of our own, and I’d  always wanted a little girl. I didn’t have it so easy growing up, and I told myself that I would be better than my mom. I would give you everything you wanted, and we’d be happy. I’ve tried my damndest, too. It’s hard, though…



“Anyway. You were supposed to be born on the 22nd, but when it go close, I just couldn’t wait anymore. I wanted you right then, I wanted you now. So I took some castor oil and mixed it with ketchup  and drank it, and it wasn’t  an hour later I started going into contractions. I was in labor with you for hours, but it didn’t hurt that much, honestly. I could’ve given birth to you myself if I hadn’t already had a c-section with your brother. The only bad thing is I was in labor so long you were born on your aunt’s birthday…”
The face of pure evil...
Yeah, she’d get derailed by that and the cute little story would normally venture off, though sometimes she’d stay on track long enough to tell me, “And when I saw you and held you in my arms, I loved you instantly.”
My dad? When I was little he told me, “When you were born, you farted so hard you flew around the room like a rocket and landed in my arms.”
When I got older, after my mom died, he broke it to me straight: “Your mom forced you out two weeks early because she couldn’t wait another two more weeks to start drinking again… and maybe she wanted to see you, too.”

Thanks for shattering my dreams, dad…

Friday, December 9, 2011

Ramen-Box Hat

The Hedgehog got me the most awesome present ever:



Butter Dean

It’s a well known fact around our apartment that Paula Dean scares me.
I'm Paula Dean, ya'll!

On television there’s nothing wrong with the Butter lady, except maybe her addiction to butter.

Come on, people! She makes cakes that call for two and half cups of butter, and puts at least two tablespoons in everything! She has something called Gooey Butter Cake that is essentially a pile of buttery pudding that used to be cake mix! That isn't to say her food probably doesn't taste good, and I'm sure it does, and I don't hate her as a person, it's just that, well... her face is terrifying.

I mean, I’ve been made fun of in the past for being like her; it’s the curse of being a southern cook. Making veggies? Tablespoon of butter. Making rice? Two tablespoons. Making a grilled cheese? Butter for the pan and some Duke's mayonaise on the inside for flavor. Making a homemade cake? Melted butter for that. Making my famous cookies? Well, I use oil and honey... Frying eggs? Okay, I use olive oil.
I've got some confused DNA...
Hey, I’m part Italian, too. (And Irish and Romani and Native American and Swedish and German…)

"All this cake took was two cups of butter and your soul."
Anyway, Paula seems like she’s a nice lady on tv, but her magazines all have her with these perfectly white, straight, teeth and these wide pale blue eyes; the result is a set of soul stealing eyes and teeth that look set to rend your flesh from their very bones. I die a little inside every time I look at her that way; and I know she doesn’t look that way,  because if you catch a picture of her when her face is too far back, you can see that she has normal blue eyes, and on her cookware you can even see normal colored teeth that are slightly crooked in the front and natural.

Butter face terries me. Sorry guys, I’ll come up with a butter pun next time. Pfft…

Moving right along… Last night I made veggies for dinner, and the Hedgehog said, “Alright now, Paula  Dean.” Well, when I went to reply back to him, I accidently called her “Butter Dean”… Not one to let me live anything down (he certainly never let me live down “fub” or “bake-ed”), the Hedgehog informed me that my new nickname was Butter Dean.
I promptly died.
And then he made butter puns for the next ten minutes, I don’t think I’ll ever forgive him for this.
"You'll change your mind once I butter you up."

This Is Why I Love The Internet...


Kit: I think I have a stomach bug...
Savvy: I got that around this time last year....those are nasty...feel better!! ;_____;)/
Hunny: NUUUU FEEEL BETTER I IS COMIN TO SEE YOU
Kit: *falls dramatically sideways, yelling as I go* I love you booooth~! *lands on bed*
Nikki: Almost everyone at the home is sick with it too even donna *dances wildly*
Kit: *flails happily across the bed*

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Today: Taco Kit

Having the nickname of Kit can be hilarious: every time you go out, you see something or another kit. Well, from now on, every Wednesday on my blog, I will have a picture of me being whatever that is.

This week?

Your argument is invalid, I am a taco.
Taco Kit.

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

My Man Cooks AND Makes Fire, What Can Yours Do?



I have to say, I managed to land myself a pretty good man. I mean, seriously! He's absoulutely awesome and I can't even begin to think of what I did to deserve him or how many karma points I had to cash in to get him. Really! The Hedgehog is fairly clean, hilarious, jokes around constantly but knows when to be serious, sometimes looks at me and announces I'm gorgeous for no reason, surprises me almost constantly, and on top of it all he can cook!


Maybe he's not a world famous chef, but for a man he can cook really good food. This is a man who definitely knows his way around a kitchen and how to rock it. I'm talking these really delicious meals, much better than the macaroni and cheese, omelets, or everything grilled my dad used to cook growing up; and aside from the incident last week he caught the stove on fire, there's been absolutely no problems with him in the kitchen. It was totally an accident, too; I told him not to use the front burner, turkey grease has spilled on it and was smoking, but neither of us thought it would catch fire, so... I mean, in a way it's actually my fault, since I didn't clean it after it happened and I'm the only one who knows how to take the stove eye apart.

Kit and Lulu (and Hunny)’s Adventures in Spanish!

Unlike most people I don’t really have a mom or dad, or any real family in general. I mean… yeah, I did have a mom, who I miss a lot, and I do have a dad, who I never see any more, and I have a ton of cousins and aunts and uncles, most of whom could die without me ever caring about and who wouldn't bat a lash if I died, but I don’t have a real family. Get it now?
I won't lie,  though... I had a pretty lonely childhood.
Instead, I have friends, and they’re the most important people in my entire life, you know, my Hedgehog aside. Three friends in particular have become more than friends, they are my sisters… that’s not to say that I don’t love my other friends, some of which have been around longer and know me better, but these three… I can count on them no matter what.
Hunny
Lulu
Jess
And a couple of years ago or so when I found myself homeless, the first time, not the second time when I went to live with the Home, they became my family.
Group huggle.
Yeah, bad stuff happens to me a lot, not much that can be done about it now, but it’s made for a lot of interesting stories and has led me to where I am, so I’m content with it even if at the time I was pretty miserable… Anyway, it was about to be spring break of my senior year in high school, and thanks to my dad’s Girl-Fiend home wasn’t exactly so safe and home-like anymore.

... There's no easy way to draw stringy bleached hair and leathery skin...
Oh gods you have no idea how much I wish I were kidding... She used to wear this skintight lime green track suit, and one morning she walked around in a tight blue shirt that came to just below the curve of her butt and nothing else: literally nothing else. She was mean, too, like... a thousand times more vindictive than I've ever been, but I digress...

Shirtless because that's how I always see him.


I’d already run away from home for a couple of days at a time in the past, so I knew that neither the Girl-Fiend or my dad would care or really come looking for me, so I took up an offer Lulu’s dad had made and decided to stay with them for a couple of weeks. He's pretty awesome, actually, and he jokes around a lot. Every time I see him he asks me how prison is, and then goes, "But seriously, you're looking good. Glowing." He's an awesome guy, he calls me Kit the Car.


I get the reference, but I can't help but imagine it like this...
I spent many a happy night.


Living with Lulu was a lot of fun, at least while the rush of freedom still had a hold of me; not that it didn't continue to be fun, it's just... after awhile I couldn't shake the burden feeling I always get. The first night there she set my bed up underneath the Twilight poster she had on her closet door and told me, “Don’t worry, Jasper’s nipple with protect you.”

Anyway, to the reason for the particular title of this post, Lulu’s family is Puerto Rican, and as such there is a good amount of Spanish spoken at her house. Well, I’m not exactly fluent, but I know enough of it to understand it and even respond in really simple cases… You know, what time it is, how I'm doing... I understand it better than I speak it, that's thanks to a Latin class I took in high school, and normally people stick to the simple stuff cause I'm just so white, so I can normally chirp back my short reply and feel kinda awesome from remembering stuff.

I could never do that with Lulu’s dad, though. When he came in all, “Como esta?” I sat there, panicking, wide eyed, staring at him. He was just so intimidating to me somehow, maybe because he actually spoke it. Most other people didn't really speak it that well, or were learning, or did it in a joking way and kept it short and simple and not often; he would speak sentences at me, things I understood, but it made me afraid. What if I said the wrong thing? What if I messed up?

Not that Lulu was any better. When she speaks Spanish you have to speak to her really slowly like she’s “a really slow retarded five year old”. That is a quote from Lulu herself. This made things really interesting around the house. Her dad would be there, just saying really simple things… asking me about my day and how things were, in really simple Spanish I could understand and reply to, and I would panic really badly… and Lulu wouldn’t help because either she couldn't or she thought it was funny.

It was all because I was a super quiet house guest, too. I don’t require much to keep me entertained, and I’m actually pretty shy and quiet on my own… I made him uncomfortable, he couldn't tell what I was thinking, and I knew it, which is why I later went to stay with Hunny; her family forced me into talking by poking and prodding and joking.

And me and Lulu and Hunny had some fun ourselves, like this one time we were hanging out at one of their favorite Mexican restaurants… Now, before anyone accuses me of being racist, I would like you all to know that I know the waiter spoke Spanish, I had heard him speaking it with one of the other waiters on the other side of the room just ten minutes before the incident… I have to commend the guy, too. Through all of our insanity he didn’t so much as crack a smile. He was really serious about his job.

As we were sitting at the table, we were talking about how there were really only two phrases that we knew in Spanish, the first one was “es un oso”. About the time Lulu said this the waiter came up to refresh our drinks. He had to be wondering what bear we were talking about and where it was… Or at least wondering what was wrong with us.



A few moments later when he came back to give us our check, Hunny announced to the table the other phrase we knew, “tengu en gato en mai pantalones.” … Despite hearing this, he didn’t even laugh, didn’t even smile, though she had just announced she had a cat in her pants. We all died laughing, however, when he walked away.