Ho-mance

So, I wrote this some time ago and found it today on a scrap of paper. Thought my Sammi might get a kick out of it. It's terrible, I know, but I kinda like it that way.

Ho-mance

In high-school we just had to get away
The pressure of being good all day
Honor roll, Queens of Stage
Passing notes on blue-lined page

Before and after you'd drive from A to B
And I was happy from A to Z
If it meant you were there next to me.
In your car or anywhere you are
That's where I want to be,
In your car or anywhere you are.

The scenery is always the same
Fishtank house, a stalking game
We only met because of a guy
Wasting gas, fueling a rant

Boys are silly things at best
And we've stayed longer than the rest
R.I.P. your jeans, and oh my breasts!
Smoking til our lips turn blue
Listening to nineties tunes,
'Cause that's just how we do.

Oh, what a glad ho-mance!

Gender Stereotruths

So, I ran across this vid last night, If Guys Were Like Girls:

And the 2nd one:

At first, I found it mildly entertaining in a guys know nothing about girls sort of way. Who does yoga in their socks? Is this the way they see us? Of course, I was basing that on myself and my Sammi. I do love the "haircut!" bit, because I do this as a default compliment thing. And honestly, these guys are great at the characters they've chosen, and their group chemistry is amazing. But overall, I thought it was a bit of a stretch. I mean, who freaks out about a "relationship" after two weeks?

Then I thought about that for a minute and was horrified to realize that I do actually know girls who act like this. I want to punch them in the face every single time I have to hear about their relationship problems. Because they aren't in a relationship. They are in a stalkership. And they freak out over every little thing a guy says/does and over-analyze it to death and tell me they wish they could "just not care" the way I do.

So that freaked me out for a minute. Like PTSD from dealing with that all the time. Then I clicked on this:

and this:

And life was somehow better again. Also, I might be a dude. Like, in my heart-soul.

Laundry Day (A Traumatizing Sally Story)

Today was one of Sally's first days off in the big city. Sally thought to herself, I can think of no better way to spend my day off than doing laundry in this apartment I am renting. Doing the laundry is such a refreshing and energizing task. I can't wait!

Sally may have had too much to drink this morning.

Nevertheless, Sally went right to work. After buying some cheap detergent down the street, she came back and fiddled with the buttons and dials on the old washing machine, just like her roommate had done the other day. However, when she opened the lid, she was surprised to find a large army of ants. Ants upon ants upon ants. They seemed to be using the inside of the machine as a modern day anthill!

Well, I'm smarter than any old little ant, Sally thought. I'll just run an empty cycle to drown them all out, and wipe up the outside of the machine. So she let some water run its course through the machine, and found some rubbing alcohol to get those ants so mighty drunk they would die. And then she could do a clean load of laundry.

NOPE.

To Sally's dismay, while many of the ants drowned, many more simply found someplace to hide. And while sanitizing their tracks should have deterred them, it seems as though the ants were quite fond of the alcohol.

Sally was left with a choice: Try to do a load of laundry at the apartment in the old machine, or haul her undies down the street to the laundromat. I'll try it here this time, and see how it goes. Maybe it won't be so bad, she thought.

While a few ants may have slipped into the water while washing, everything seemed to be going well enough. Maybe this was something she could get used to for the short time she lived here, and it wouldn't even be an issue. Until the spin cycle started.

BANG BAM WOCK WOCK WOCK BANG BANG. The washer shook and tumbled all around the room, banging the kitchen counters next to it. The dishes drying on the rack soon began to dance across the counter, precariously headed for the floor.

Sally rushed to the washer and pulled the dial, stopping the hazardous machine in its track. Too scared to turn the machine back on, Sally pulled her soggy clothes out of the machine, rushing to beat the ants. Now it was time to hang her clothes on the drying rack.

Sally quickly ran out of space on the drying rack, and realized she would have to hang some non-unmentionables on the line outside. Though it took some time and critical thinking, Sally was able to hang just about everything on the rack.

Now it was time to POWER DRY. She turned to the fan and flipped it on high. Too much. She flipped to the medium setting. The fan died. With a heavy sigh, she turned it back on high and stepped away. All of her underwear flew up and splatted on the floor.

The end.

Moral of the story: A walk down the street and a hefty amount of quarters are less valuable than Sally's sanity.