Car Talk

I’m back, bitches.  I’ll give you the highlights of Ocean City next week, but I would be remiss if I didn’t at least try and convey what it’s like to spend hours in the car with my husband and little brother.  This basically sums up all the conversations we had…you know, in between Thom plunking away at the ukulele while Rocco blasted Metallica.

Rocco:  Is Matt’s mom making Scrapple while we’re there?

Thom:  We’re going to play Scrabble?

Me:  Sure, Thom.  Why not?

Rocco:  No using any of the made-up words on Elly’s blog.

Me:  But I can use them, right?

Thom:  No.  They aren’t words.

Me:  They’re on the Interwebz!  They’re fact now.

Rocco:  “Interwebz” is not a word.

Thom:  Also, the flibbertyjibbet on a unicorn is always imaginary…and not just because it’s on a unicorn.

Me:  You take that back.

Thom:  How far away are we?

Me:  I’m not sure.  Rocco is driving like an old lady.

Thom:  And it’s three hours until the party?

Me:  Yup.

Thom:  So basically, Rocco’s speed is the deciding factor on how leisurely my afternoon crap will be?

Me:  Basically.

Thom:  Well, keep me posted.  I have to do some prep work.

Rocco:  Prep work?

Thom:  Yes, I don’t want it to be all Faulkner-esque.

Me:  Pardon?

Thom:  All sound and fury, signifying nothing.

…and you people thought I was the weird one.

Thanks again to Kelly and Ryan for babysitting the blog.  Mildred is a little sticky and singed, but I’m just going to assume she did that to herself.  Also all the wine and liquor seem to have disappeared, my kitchen table is covered with vibrators arranged in homage to the Last Supper, and someone wrote REDRUM all over my bathroom mirror with chocolate sauce.  (At least, I hope that’s chocolate sauce.)  All in all, the place is much tidier than I left it, so thanks.

Now, I’m off to try and hose the last of the sand out of my taco.  There are some parts of the bod that really should never be exfoliated.


    1. Seriously? You really made me second guess who wrote “The Sound and the Fury.” Apparently I’m still tired. I’m just impressed the world doesn’t think Thom has furry poop due to another spelling mishap.

      1. The quote though is Bill Shakespeare’s not Bill Faulkner’s. And somehow Tom having furry feces wouldn’t seem strange.

  1. “All sound and fury, signifying nothing.”

    BEST use of that oft-quoted line. Faulkner is turning in his grave, “Fuck! Why didn’t I think of THAT?!”

    And does it mean Rocco needs to hire an exorcist now for his car since a line from the play that shall not be named was conjured up inside his car…

  2. My beast of a dog just sounded and I’m furied, and it signified that his butt smells like ass. I wish it signified nothing though.

    If this makes no sense, it’s because I’ve been holding my breath for twelve minutes waiting for the air to clear.

  3. I’m confused. Was Rocco hoping to have Scrapple or was he asking so he could avoid it? Perhaps Thom planned on having Scrapple, which explains the required afternoon prep-work? I’m just trying to keep up here.

    Also, can you believe they worked “flibbertyjibbet” into the song the nuns sing during the wedding in “The Sound of Music”? I think it was the nuns. Either way, Scandalous!

  4. Faulk can go faulk him…..never mind.

    Funny thing is that while I was waltzing around the giant glitter fountain, I could hear Kelly laughing wildly… But I never saw her. Also, just throw that jar away… You know.. The one in the back of the fridge. Good times…

  5. obviously you’re still in full wedding mode thinking of paul’s letter to the corinthians which leads to the thinking of the last supper but vibrators? dying to know which is jesus and which is pontius pilate.

    also, i had a mud bath once in napa valley. yeah, that’s an oxymoron. mud doesn’t bathe you. it sneaks into crevices you never knew existed. even mildred couldn’t lick herself clean after one of these.

  6. I KNEW you’d appreciate my last supper fun fest. Did you see the flowing hair I put on Jesus?
    I like it over here, my own place seems barren in comparison but I’ll manage.

  7. Scrapple… you scareith me so. What the hell is it? When I moved to MD I thought someone had fried a cat’s hairball and tried to charge me four bucks for the dam thing. I think I’d rather eat one of Elly’s made up words, “down the shore” style with tons of taste bud killing Old Bay on it.

    For the record though “weird” is the new cool. GREAT POST!

    1. You know that stuff that you occasionally dig out from under the nail of your big toe? Yeah, that’s the same color (and smell) as Scrapple. No thanks.

  8. I am surprised you didn’t make Thom ride on the roof while he did his “prep work.” Sound and Fury reminds me of Wagner. I can just hear the Ride of the Valkyries trumpeting down the interstate.

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