Posts tagged roommates
The Girl Charade
...And other Manly Tales
A list of my devotions for my bub on the eve of ‘Valentimes’ Day (why do people say that?!)…
Anyway, I love you all. Thanks for stickin’ with me, even through my intense phobia of balloons.
It’s been one of those weeks where I don’t see much of that bub who farts in his sleep next to me. Ohhh well…
Get outta here, Christmas! …Or Ninja will chop down yo’ butt.
Huzzah, I’m back! ….and terribly behind on all my drawings.
Did this one a while back while watching the first Sex & the City movie. Yeahyeahyeah, it’s a sap-fest but it’s also a true testament to the power of good friendships. And I’m sure if I asked the boys to play pretend, they’d appease me in some way.
Merry Christmas Eve! Christmas doodles are on the way…
My tribute to the lovely, gory movie Ninja Assassin… This is a couple years old, so Ninja’s hair looks like a shark fin. You could say he’s practicing for the next LL Cool J song about shark fins….
In honor of today being Sunday and also the premiere of Boardwalk Empire’s half season finale, I present Chris and I in 1920’s Prohibition fashion…
Although I won’t get on my soapbox for too long, it must be said that I hate flappers. If The Great Gatsby taught you anything, it’s that flappers have poor taste in clothing and judgment and they are not to be trusted.
Chris and I had lengthy discussions about this in the past, more specifically about how we both wish we could get in a time machine and go back to this time period because their clothes are so effing cool. I told him I would most likely cross dress as a man, because their style is far superior to that of the 1920’s woman. Sorry, girls… Actually, no, I’m not sorry.
In further support of my argument, here’s a comparison between men and women’s clothing from back in the day directly from the show:
Totally badass… I want that vest (nomnom) and the hair.
-VERSUS-
You look like a clown, betch.
Happy Sunday & do yourself a favor and watch the show! —Buscemi is God.
Since Chris started working at a familiar southwest style restaurant (ahem—starts with a ‘C’ and ends with ‘ili’s’), he comes home smelling like tortilla chips; I call him ‘Little Tortilla Boy.’ It’s also a well-known fact in our house that Ninja adores cheese and I guacamole.
Ninja and I would not hesitate to eat Chris if he were in fact a giant chip…
Enjoy!
Sometimes I get bored during smoke breaks.
Meet us! … This is how each of us comes home every day; I can’t make this up.
- The lovely Ninja opens the door ever-so slightly and peeps in with a maniacal, Joker-esque grin on his face.
- Hard as I try, I always manage to come home with a million things in my arms, barely able to open the door (you’d think I have a burrow somewhere with all my shit).
- And Chris—well, what can I say? The boy likes to fart. A lot. In most instances it’s his preferred method of communication. Consequently, it’s not how he originally asked me out on a date…
There you have it. Prepare for adventure!
