Back (apologies for my handwriting!)

The text of the postcard is

Dear Ellen,

You ever have one of those weeks where you’re happily dancing on a could and then babies riding giant swords attack you?

Sincerely weird,
DumbFunnery.com

Me: (Un-intelligable noise meaning great to see you too!)

—

Dentist: Boy this weather lately sure is great, huh!

Me: (Frightened noise because someone this peppy holding a sharp metal instrument in my mouth is scary.)

—

Dentist: You don’t mind if I talk about weird personal problems with the hygienist do you?

Me: (Weird open-mouthed noise indicating … well, actually, I do kind of find this one interesting. They never ask, they just do it.)

—

Dentist: Oh I love this song! This radio station is great!

Me: (Weird open-mouthed noise indicating oh yeah, I love this easy-listening-please-none-offend-none radio station!)

—

Check out Lies I Readily Tell to Salespeople

Twist Stanley-Morgan
Shout Stanley-Morgan

(So we could yell Twist and Shout at the mall, and not just randomly.)

Alicia Silverstone and I

Loch Ness Silverstone
Roped Off Silverstone
For the Love of God NOTICE ME Silverstone

(What’s she been up to lately? Seriously.)

Yogi Bear and I

Yogi Bear, Jr.

(He’s totally the type to have a Junior.)

Ke$ha and I

Lis@
B()B
Jos&ph

(Because, you know, we’d want our kids to be ridiculed.)

—

“Excuse me sir … excuse me …”
(Mistake of acknowledging the mall kiosk person exists.)
“Do you celebrate Christmas?”
“Nope.”

—

(Cute salesgirl approaches …)
“Are you looking for anything in particular?”
“Do you know which section a book by <Insert author that I think she might like> would be?”

—

“You know that’s a woman’s sweater …?”
“Yeah! Hahaha! … It’s for … My girlfriend … She’s built like me? … Or … Uh … Shoot.”

http://lolabees.wordpress.com/2011/11/28/10-reasons-your-dentist-probably-hates-you-too/

Or if you prefer when a link is in the word here, click here.

Number 2 on that list is this – “You come to your appointment, and it’s obvious you haven’t brushed your teeth in days.”

In DAYS! My God! Do people who don’t brush their teeth for days also go to the dentist?? That is insanity to me! In fact, I do the exact opposite. I treat a dentist appoint like a test, and I do what I call “dental cramming.” Actually that phrase sounds kind of gross.

Anyhow, starting about a week before my appointment I begin to finally floss on a regular basis, and use mouth wash. Up until then it’s once or twice per week for these things … sorry dentists of the world.

I’m curious though – am I the only one who does this dental equivalent of cramming?

Wait, why am I preemptively angry about this? I should still be in a chocolate-filled, booze-filled, you’re-so-pretty-it-hurts-me-and-makes-me-wish-I-had-better-than-20-20-vision-filled daze!

I am excited about the gifts I bought for my family.

For my brother – a post-it note with a drawing I did of me in front of a wall
For my sister – a packet of ketchup from Germany that says “ketchup” (they have the same word for ketchup! How zany is that!)
For my mom – a list of names that would be cooler than mine (Thor, AppleSauce, Lean Geraldine, etc)
For my dad – a shoe (unknown size, presumed female shoe based on the heel and pink polka dots)

The best part of the gifts is that I got/made all of them when I was really drunk.

Today we are going around asking people if their windmill is running, and then we’re going to say “well you better go catch it!!” After seven tries we’ve discovered not nearly as many people own windmills as we’d first suspected.

Seeing some guy in his 50s/60s, with nice silver fox hair, and a rich guy sweater (you know, it looks very plain but the fabric is insanely nice) – you’d think he’d be BOUND to own at LEAST one windmill, right? Wrong. I know, it feels wrong to even say wrong.

Actually. Wait. I bet Germany is just full of liars. I can picture it now.

“Yah. Zee tourists aw hee-awh.”
“Oh? Mine gootness. Letz play a joke on zem, yah?”
“Oh. Yah! How goot, mine friend!”

I can’t wait to leave!!

Oooh, a chocolate shop! How adorable!

Today I am sitting on a couch. Moving very little.

Yesterday J kept doing the funniest thing. He would start to laugh. Then that would make me laugh. Now that I think about it, it was probably only funny because I was so, so very drunk.

I’ll take this opportunity to do a little reflection:

Pro for America – I speak the language

Con for America – When I return I will have to work

I can’t believe I thought about work! I have two days of vacation left. I am now going to purge the thought of work by singing to the porcelain pal. I call this one, “ashfuhgsighasilgu” (that’s the sound of me puking).

Am I the only person who hears Munich and pictures an evil Vampire? I’m on constant Vamp-watch. I told J about this and he just sighed and shook his head. I told him I still had his back and he did this thing where he loses me in a crowd. He’s always challenging my “have your back” abilities – and I’m up for the challenge.

I don’t want to brag, but the more I’m touring around Europe, the more I feel like Wesley Snipes in Blade. Only I’m not black. And I don’t have any weapons. And I’m not that fit. And I don’t actually believe in Vampires.

I guess what I’m saying is I just seem moody. But hey, if it’s good enough for Blade it’s good enough for me!

Ok, back to looking for J.

After he gave me this little speech I asked him where he got such a nice pair of sassy pants from. Did they come from the sassypants store? Or was it a mega store? Maybe 2 pairs of sassy pants for the price of one? Or was there a sassy outfit, with a flippant scarf, a saucy beret, maybe some fresh sneakers? Did it also come with a copy of, “Oscar Wilde and You – Get Your Intelligentsia Bitch On?”

I have to admit I maybe went on a little too long with the sassy pants schtick. That’s only about a quarter of it. Still, it’ll be cool having pictures of me with a black eye in Europe. I plan to print out one or two of those picture and write an amazing story on the back of one of the pictures of how I got the black eye. It will involve a twelve year old who, despite my valiant efforts, could not be rescued from the land-shark. Though I will manage to save the bus full of Swedish models/masseuses/cake-makers. It will be glorious.