Tag Archives: excessive sarcasm

Book Review: He Came With The Couch!

He Came With The Couch is the story of a young girl named Sophie, whose father is a traveling salesman, and whose mother, out of necessity, is a whore. Whoops, wrong story. But I can say with complete certainty that Mama is clinically depressed.

Translation: Mommy needs her morning Prozac.

Yikes. Maybe that’s why Sophie is rocking the Einstein look? Mommy dearest can’t be bothered with her own hair, why bother with Sophie’s?

So, talk about wacky: their furniture always ends up either ripped to shreds courtesy of their mongrel pet, on fire, or in the front yard (by way of the living room window). You know how it is.  This makes complete and total sense when we find out that they purchase all of their furniture at (magical?) rummage sales. Why? Because they like the added bonuses that are included in the deals, like CREEPY BLUE MUTE MUPPETS.

Where we're going we don't need carseats.

They totes intend on sending him packing, but when they can’t physically remove Blue Man from the couch (using a plunger they borrowed from their JOLLY GREEN GIANT neighbors: ), they decide that it’s completely okay if he murders them in their sleep stays there. Because what else are you going to do? Buy a new, unused couch free of parasites? Nah.

Or maybe they should use that money to take a road trip with Blue Man? Show him the wide world that he’s missing? That’s more like it! They take him to the Grand Canyon. They take him to the beach. They take him to a place inside that’s so hard to reach. I mean, they take him to Washington D.C. Basically they go from one side of the country to the other in order to keep from buying a new couch.  BRILLIANT.

But there’s more to BM than meets the eye. He’s more of a blue HULK. He saves Sophie by cushioning  her fall from an impossibly high tree branch  by….throwing the couch outside the window just as she was about to hit the ground? PHYSICS FTW.

Well, thank god for BM, huh? We all need a good BM. I mean, since Willy Loman and Mrs. I-can’t-be-bothered-to-change-out-of-my-robe-half-of-the-time are too distracted to actually keep their kid out of harm’s way why not let BM take over? Sure, it was an alarming idea at first (well, he’s sitting on our couch, obvs he’s a part of the family now!) but BM turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to little Sophie. And since the book ends with the family adopting an even odder looking muppet (they needed a new chair, see) into the family, Sophie should be singing “Sunny days…” for all of her days to come. Weeee!

2.5 Stars.

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I love you, NoPo*

*I just saw I love you, New York. It sucked.

Everyone always talks about how pretty Portland is, and it’s true. Portland is a pretty, pretty place. One of my favorite things to look at in Portland is the St. Johns Bridge.

Look at that. The park below it is called Cathedral Park. Each and every time I go there, I hear “Grace Cathedral Park” in my head. It reminds me of living in Santa Barbara after college. Andy and I lived next door to this guy who would snore all night long. When yelling “shut the fuck up!” wouldn’t work to shut him the fuck up we would turn on some music to drown out his snores. I had never really liked Red House Painters before I started falling asleep to them. That sounds funny, I know, but man that’s good sleeping music. I should say that I have successfully listened to them while awake (even driving!) as well.

We also got in the habit of waking up to music. One morning I woke up and almost died laughing.

“What?” Andy asked.

“The Get Up Kids,” I said. “We’re waking up to The Get Up Kids.”

It was kind of a let down when he simply grinned.

Anyway, when we first moved to Portland, I remember being shocked to hear that Andy and I had moved to the ghetto. I had just gotten a job and all my coworkers wanted to know where I lived. I had no idea what the area was called. “Uh…St. Johns?” I asked.

They all looked at me with pity. “Yikes, that’s the ghetto,” they said.

I looked at them sideways. “Huh? Nah, not really.” But I knew it had to be true when my coworkers brought forward the only other black person who worked at the company to acknowledge this fact for real.

“It’s the ghetto,” he said gravely. So there you have it.

We lived in North Portland less than two years, then moved to Vancouver after I got pregnant with Z, hated it intensely, and moved back when I was pregnant with Mad Miles. After we left Vancouver, I found out that some guy had gotten hit in the head with a HATCHET in the park down the street from our old place. So, it’s nice to be in a better neighborhood.

Bye for now.

P.S. I remember watching My Own Private Idaho for the first time after moving up here and seeing the St. Johns Bridge in a scene and yelling to Andy, “Hey! I know that bridge!”

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Filed under Life, Portland

Book Review: Guess How Much I Love You

Z calls this his “Bunny Book”. I’ve tried to explain to him that the characters are actually NUTBROWN HARES but he’ll have none of it. And in all honesty, I would have preferred that the author had simply labeled them bunnies as well.

Guess How Much I Love You is a supposed heart warming story about the love that a father and son have for each other. More like heart-breaking. And you’d think that with a title like that, someone would be guessing the amount of love a particular NUTBROWN HARE has, right? NOPE. There’s no guessing involved. In the very beginning of the book, (SPOILER ALERT) BIG NUTBROWN HARE simply gives up. He says, “Oh, I don’t think I could guess that.” So LITTLE NUTBROWN HARE just tells him. LAME. And then, a strange game of oneupmanship begins.

Every time LNBH tells BNBH how much he loves him, his father has to make it clear that he loves his son more. So LNBH says that he loves his father as high as his arms can reach, and up to the moon. You know, kid stuff. But then BNBH has to go and say that he loves his son as high as HIS arms can reach and up to the moon and back? Jerk! By the end, LNBH is too tired to “play” anymore and passes out.

Oh, you think you’re a big man BNBH? Well you’re not.

No stars.

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Filed under books/reading, Funny haha

Circus Circus

Step right up ladies and gents! Prepare to feast your eyes on the WALKING UTERUS!

Merf!

Merf!

Walking Uterus exists solely to spice up your boring ass lives! You can ask it questions, but only if they are annoying and repetitive! Here are some examples: Getting Close huh? You look ready to pop! How ARE you? But really how ARE you?

*lightbulb* Hmmm…this pregnancy thing could prove quite lucrative!

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Filed under Preggerville, Rant, Truly?

Book Review: 10 Little Monkeys

I haven’t had time to pick up that many books lately, but I managed to read this book about 300 times in the last year. Go figure. And what I’ve found after even the first read was this: this book is repetitive. Almost too repetitive. The “author” uses pretty much the same words on every page but for one or two exceptions. There is no pretense that this book is going to be anything more than monkeys jumping on a bed, it’s direct and to the point.

The book left a bad taste in my mouth. The mother character was so neglectful that each of her 10 children (where is the father??) ends up with massive head injuries by the end. She is also CRAZY intrusive, busting in on the doctor at home and at his other appointments with no regard for his privacy. And each and every time he gives her his advice, she decides not to take it!

If you’re looking for substance, keep looking. But if you like monkeys, you might like this.

No stars.

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Filed under books/reading, Good times