Tag Archives: A Dingo Ate My Baby

Casper the Not-Water-Conservation-Friendly Ghost

Remember how I told you our new house was haunted? I’ve been waivering  on whether or not I believe it.

A friend’s exhusband and their children who lived in the house relayed to us that the most common place for stuff to happen was in the bathroom (and Boo’s closet). Apparently, one of the favorite things for the spirit to do is turn on the sink faucet.

Riiiiiiight….

The day after she told us that Kiefer took Ozzy for a walk and I picked up our dinner. When I came back, Kiefer and Ozzy were still gone, but I heard something in the bathroom. The water in the sink was running.

What the….

So now all I’m picturing is something scary standing over the baby’s crib, like this:

Yellow-eyed demons eat babies…

And we all know what yellow-eyed demons do to baby mamas.

Death by ceiling fire…

It’s been nice knowing all of you. Please use the comments to call dibs on my personal belongings.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “I still catch the Husband occasionally saying to his friends, ‘Yeah I’m going to go hang out with my girlfriend…I mean wife. I’m going with my wife. I don’t have a girlfriend. Just a wife. Yeah….”—LauraLord


A Leprechaun May Have Impregnated Me

Saturday night I went out with some girl friends. Because it wasn’t actually St. Patrick’s Day, I thought it would be safe. I was so wrong.

Drunk Guy: ::Says something I don’t understand::

Me: What?

Drunk Guy: I just wish I knew if it was my baby.

Me: Whoa…. Who’s pregnant?

Drunk Guy: I just don’t know if it’s my baby. And they can’t raise a baby. But you…you’re smart. I can tell. We’re going to name our baby “Evan.”

Me: I’m pregnant?

Drunk Guy: Are you?

Me: I’m very unpregnant.

Drunk Guy: Freaking nihilists…. ::babbles something about nihilists::

Me: What?

Drunk Guy: They can’t raise a baby. But we could. I mean, you could because you’re so intelligent. Intelligenter than everyone here.

Me: Did you just say “intelligenter?”

Drunk Guy: We’ll raise the baby together. I’m going to kidnap you now.

Me: WHAT?

Drunk Guy: I’m going to do it. ::puts down his drink and gestures that he’s going to throw me over his shoulder::

Me: Um…no. Uh…you should finish your beer first.

Drunk Guy: I’m going to kiss you now.

Me: HOLY CRAP! IS THAT A LEPRECHAUN OVER THERE?

And that, my friends, is how you escape crazy drunk people on St. Patrick’s Day weekend.

It wasn’t entirely a fool-proof plan because he did manage to pinch my butt as I was walking away. But at least I managed to escape kidnapping.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “My fervent hope is that somewhere in the mass of pub-crawling St. Patricks Day asshats* that are going to be totally boning my commute tomorrow, a leprechaun like this will create pandemonium on the platform. The hundreds of drunk people will run away, and I will catch my train.”—JM Randolph

*Putting the word “asshat” in a comment is pretty much a guarantee you’ll get Favorite Comment. That word cracks me up.