(no subject)

So far today, I have gotten out of bed, dressed, taken a bus halfway to work, walked the rest of the way, ate donuts and soda, and tried to write fanfic. And all of this while still fucking asleep.

If this is how the military does more before eight a.m. than I do all day, that's cheating!

(no subject)

You want to have some fun? Tell your mother you're buying your brother a tattoo for his 18th birthday.

The reaction? It's hilaaaaaarious.

She tried to argue that he's only eighteen ("Great, then you have no say"), he doesn't need a tattoo ("Mom, no one needs a tattoo"), and he can never get it removed ("Well, actually, he can, but if he doesn't choose something stupid from the start, he won't want to").

It took me that long to get a word in edgewise, and that word was, "Aren't you the same woman who saw my tattoos and said she wanted one?"

Well, yes, but she didn't get one, now, did she? God forbid she ended up a 65-year-old grandma with a tattoo on her ass.

I'm sorry, but if I knew either one of my grandmothers had a tattoo on her ass, I'd think she was the coolest grandma on the planet. Of course, if I knew one of my grandmas had a tattoo on her ass, it's entirely possible it's because I would have seen it and ohGodmyeyestheyburn.

Hell, I savor the thought of showing off my tattoos to my grandkids and scaring the hell out of them. That'll keep the little bastards in line.

Of course, she ended the call by grumbling, "Well, he's eighteen, I can't stop him from getting one. I just want him to graduate high school." My mother, ladies and gentleman, the most supportive woman I know. And such high expectations, as well. *eye roll*

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( The Cinematic Adventures of Captain Asshat )