"something tells me you've already had lots of candy."

Ah, Halloween. As a grown-ass adult, I choose to celebrate Halloween on a non-school night. Can we just vote that Halloween officially move to the last Saturday in October? Thanksgiving doesn't have an official date attached to it. Am I right?!?

How unimportant was the above rant? Moving on. We celebrated this past Saturday as Tony Stark and his executive assistant, Pepper Potts. I know, the most non-costume costume ever. But I promise you that we put a whole hell of a lot of thought into it. Because it is surprisingly hard to find douchey enough sunglasses to be RDJ worthy. And Justin even shaved his beard into that miraculous Stark goatee which he really wanted to keep until I threatened his life. Balls or goatee, you can only choose one.

You may have noticed a guest star in our photo. Posing. Actually posing. We set up the camera on the bar with a self-timer and this was about our third try. I knew that she had ran back there and collapsed. I did NOT realize that she was going to smize the shit out of the camera. This is however, the closest we got to a costume this year. I know, I know. I am greatly disappointed too. But the swollen scratches on my ankles were the final caution that I needed.

Have fun tonight, kids. Keep all of your b's covered (to refresh: boobs, butt, bagina) and don't take candy from strangers.

this one time...

This one time I started a blog that I couldn't be bothered to keep updated because of 900 equally unimportant reasons. What might those be? SO GLAD YOU ASKED.

This one time...

• I severely injured my shoulder/neck trying on a wedding dress. Shit is dangerous. The first place that I went to completely dresses you. The place I tried last weekend, not so much. Also, my thighs. This combination led to me contorting my body in unnatural ways because I AM A SIZE 10 OKAY. Which led to a night filled with muscle relaxers and much whining.

• A few weeks ago, I threw my bridal party an initiation party in which I fed them fancy cheese and gave them tons of wine. I also gave them a brochure about being in my bridal party so that when they ask me questions I can say PLEASE REFER TO YOUR PAMPHLET. 

Those flower girls? I might let them wear those dresses. They kill me dead.

• I became completely enamored with Veep and Battlestar Galactica. Season 3 of BSG is giving me all the feels. And to recover from said feels we watch Veep so I can laugh for 30 minutes straight.

• Eastbound and Down came back for one final season. Enough said.

• I realized I am marrying one of those "fall people." Also possibly a "lifestyle blogger." This all started on a sunny afternoon in Manhattan Beach in which he was served beer in a mason jar and flipped his balls over it. And then all the pumpkin flavored things. If he starts hasthtagging fall and talking about sweaters and boots, I will not speak to him until winter. Lucky for him I am the best of the best so I give into making all of the pumpkin flavored things because that is practically all that exists at Trader Joe's. You need some regular flavored crackers? TRY THESE PUMPKIN ONES INSTEAD. 

• At work today I said "nail colish polor" and realized that I may in fact be ill and that I should just go sleep for hours like my body is telling me to. I think that I may be ill because I have been depriving my body of all of the fattening and greasy and alcoholic goodness that it needs to survive. Why, you ask? See the first bullet point. 

• And finally, because what with this blog be without a story about a cat and also farting...last night as jmeoww was doing her nightly aggressive cuddles, Justin spooked her when he stood up because that is so scary. This led to her digging her claws into my chest which caused me to flinch and release a fart, audibly, that I had been holding on to for dear life because I would rather die of bloating than fart in front of Justin. Because he laughed for ten minutes while I hid under a blanket and laugh-cried.

Close enough to 900, yea? 

a short story.

As I was sitting at the computer desk in the bedroom, Justin and Jmeoww were running around as they normally do. Okay, maybe Justin wasn't running. Rather he was distracting her away from my enticing skin meat that she likes to attack while I do computer things.

As they rounded the corner into the living room, I heard an all too familiar fart sound. But I brushed it off because, MEN. 

But then I hear, "JMEOWW! Was that you?!?"

And I think to myself, cats can't fart like that. So then I say out loud, "No it wasn't her, cats can't fart like that. They literally do not audibly fart. DID SHE JUST AUDIBLY FART?"

"Yea, babe. She totally did!" followed by and appropriate yet suspicious amount of laughter. I repeated my question at least nine more times and because the answer was the same, I was convinced that my cat audibly farted.

At this point I peeked my head into the living room to investigate said audible fart because I found it all too hilarious and unbelievable. And what do I find but that Justin giggling like a child who just audibly farted and blamed it on the cat and successfully convinced me that said cat was capable of audibly farting.

We are adults and this is our life. I kind of love it.