#grismas

[sandwichcontrol]

Showing support for my local @npr station @kuaf_radio with this early Grismas gift from @samueltaylorking. I have the best friends a boy ask for. #kuaf #npr #phartman #friendship #grismas (at KUAF 91.3 Public Radio)

[furiousjessy]

Is It Supposed To Be That Color?

HEY GUYS! CHRISTMAS/GRISMAS/BATMAS! We made it through. We could hardly think of a thing we wanted. Jackie settled on a lovely bag from an etsy shop that I like. I have been wanting this for years.

BEEP BEEP ROBOT BAG.

It’s too freaking adorable for words. BUT IT’S ADORABLE.

Jackie got booze. There’s Legos EVERYWHERE. I um can’t effing wait until the Lego phase is over.

This is my brain loop today. Turn it up.

[furiousjessy]

It's The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year

Smells like sentiment.

I keep trying to remember to take pictures of things with my fancy iPhone, because it takes amazing HDR photos that magically take the wrinkles off of my face and makes colors go katow, and boring photos somewhat more interesting to look at a few more times. Like the other day we went to this great new Indian restaurant in town and I was going to take some photos of the place and my food, but instead I just smeared curry all over my face and curled up in a ball on the floor and watched Top Gear. This new restaurant is immediately badass on several fronts. 1. NaanTV. In addition to Indian MTV, geniusly called BTV, which seriously I could watch all day, they have NaanTV on the bigscreen. They have a feed of their circular fire brick oven in the kitchen. When you order any kind of naan, after a few minutes, you can watch the guy slapping your naan on the side of the oven and see it cook. It is mesmerizing. Not so much as little Indian dudes doing the M.C. Hammer Slide. Different, but still you can’t look away.

<3

And 2. The owner, who emigrated from Pankot Palace with a suitcase full of chilled monkey brains, I promise. He’s a movie star. His beard is, somewhere, LEGENDARY. He was worried that my curry wasn’t hot enough. I had explained to him that it’s important that my curry go to eleven.

Google won't give me good beards. This is better.

Christmas was good, we saw friends, made sure we didn’t get out too much, gained a bunch of weight, my mom came over and didn’t cry OR yell, and I think we made our son pretty happy. Like I was when I was a kid, he doesn’t understand why it didn’t snow on Christmas or why I can’t just make that happen for him. He has a Christmas checklist and woe to anyone who does not follow it. We very nearly had “a situation” on our hands when he realized that the husband and I were not going to bed at 8pm as he was, and for the next hour he yelled to from his bedroom that “I AM NOT GOING TO BED UNTIL YOU DO. SANTA IS GOING TO SKIP OUR HOUSE AND IT’S YOUR FAULT. YOU ARE DOING THIS TO ME ON PURPOSE BECAUSE YOU HATE ME. GO TO BED GO TO BED GO TO BED…” Dude. Mommy and daddy are getting drunk on the floor and playing Undead Nightmare. Kids…

So what did we get? I got J Bioshock figures, comics, and a Thin Lizzy shirt, which I think he should wear all the time as a personal statement and because it makes me squeeze his biceps.  Oh and a rubber fuckable butthole.

Not from me. Oh dear.

I got actual jewelry, an indiglo watch (I love them), an Atari wristband that O picked out, books, comics, booze, things that defy description, and other things that I can’t remember offhand because I’m typing this inebriated.

In other spare time I have been playing GAMES FROM THE PAST. Montezuma’s Revenge, this week. I used to play it obsessively on my daycare’s Atari.

What, your daycare didn’t have an Atari?

Next week is the Playaz Ball. I have to take a glitter bath, find platform shoes and spandex. Trust me, this is normal.