Facebooking (With Commentary by My Brother-in-Law Chris)

So for the last two days, every time I come outside I hear my neighbor playing either CoD or Halo. Would it be weird if I invited myself over?
Knock on the door, very nonchalantly introduce yourself, then be like, "Oh, you like CoD?" Whip out your controller, force entry and WREAK HAVOC!
Umm...Xbox live?
DUH
But I don't have CoD... He does.

Go buy CoD...right now...this second

Umm, last time I checked my sister was the boss of Chris. Not you.

And last time I checked, you weren't the boss of me. So...CoD...now

I beg to differ ;)
*Grabs a bowl of popcorn*
Don't mind me Mike.... keep talking like I'm not even here.
Cock cozy creep ass.
I was taking your side, Fender Tooth!

...must be all of the Miracle Chrome leeching in through your gums...

Hahaha....miracle chrome!
Stay the hell off of my Facebook.
You have a little lettuce right there *points* yea...yea...right there in your bracket...yup...right there.
Too bad your George Lopez sized head isn't filled with brains.
I'll remember that.
P.S. This George Lopez sized head with no brains received a higher grade in COMM 105...what does that say about you?
It says I'm ugly. You beat me with your looks, Sugarpants.
He only looks so good because he uses your teeth as a mirror.
BURN.

Silent Night

Seriously, I am the worst blog-writing girlfriend ever! Sadly, getting through the fall semester meant something had to be put on the back burner and for the love of God, it wasn't going to be Facebook. It's over now, and though the dust hasn't quite settled (as I wait for the verdict in World Religions) I have the better part of winter break to blog, blog, blog.
I chose today to pick up again as it marks our ninth month together, and I am also incredibly bored waiting to go to work. I spent a little time thinking about what I wanted to add early this morning when I couldn't sleep. I was unfortunately discouraged when I couldn't pull any memories or sappy words to mind, perhaps it was do to the wee hour of the morning or my curious lack of talent. In any case, my mind was a complete blank. Paper white. Like really? I could talk about how cheesy and lame we are. It's been done. I could talk about how we both agree on a threesome with Anne Hathaway. Too creepy, right? I could write a letter? No. No. No, a thousand times, no. Instead, I'm going to say nothing. Simply because nothing is completely perfect. Some of the greatest moments in the past nine months have been defined when we've said nothing at all. For example, March 17. I walked out of the Grand Marc gates, expecting a friend and was rendered quite speechless when instead I saw Mike. Silence is a beautiful thing, defined best in Pulp Fiction. "It's when you know you've found somebody special. When you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably enjoy the silence." I love to talk and I love to laugh with him and add all of our silly moments to this blog, but sometimes it's nice to simply enjoy nothing.

Even When I Can't Stand You...

Why can't she just suck dick on the side.
Like the rest of us.

Midnight Funnies

Easy there. You almost stuck your finger in my butt hole.
At least someone would have gotten in there.

You've just downed a whole bottle of vodka, what are you doing?
Mike.
You're horrible.
I can't lie to the people.

My Name is Mike and I'm an Alcoholic...

"Free booze?"
Why do you roll your eyes?
Every time we go somewhere, "free booze?"
To my sister's house, "free booze?"
How is that a bad thing?

"Beer before class leads to a pass; class before beer... you passed up a beer?"
Genius.

Fashion Emperor

While discussing the pocket design for Mike's jeans:

Left pocket/right pocket: |<| Y |>|
Is that a butt crack in the middle?
Yes it is.
You're amazing.

Old School

Most of this dialogue is pre-blog.
Enjoy.

What about roll-over dollars?
Does it say AT&T across my forehead?
No roll-over dollars!
Why the fuck not?
Because I said so.
What if I'm savvy one week? I won't be rewarded?
That is shit.

Katie thinks we're adorable. Isn't that disgusting?
Why?
She read the blog.
Well, I am pretty damn cute.
Eh, you're a'ight.

So you're going to call it My Classy Girlfriend, even though you're the one writing it?
Yes.
You son-of-a-bitch.

I'm in a man cave.
No!
Well, the Bat cave.
Woah, don't scare me like that. The man cave is the equivalent of your dark place.

I'm trying to come up with a catchy name, or a one liner but I can't come up with any.
Keep thinking!
No!
I quit!
You damn tyrant.
Well, looks like death by firing squad then, and I don't shoot bullets. If you know what I mean.
No, fuck that, Saddam. I already quit. You've been over thrown.

I'm thinking about getting ready for work.
That's like making plans to make plans.

Well, happy birthday.
*throws change*
And not good shit, like gold dollars. Rusty pennies, for you!
Can they at least be Canadian pennies. I'd rather not be shamed by my own country.
But you're okay being shamed by Canadians?
Yeah, 'cause you know, fuck Canada!
True that.

So is it compassion or cruelty if I throw a roll of quarters at you?
Meh, it's a mix.
But it's ten bucks and it's pre-wrapped.
I won't settle for anything less than twelve.

When a Man Loves a Woman

Two blowjobs, five whole dollars and you still aren't satisfied?
What does this satisfied mean?
Well you see, when a man loves a woman...
The woman lets him put it in her butt. The end.
What do I have to do do get my back rubbed in these parts?
Not live thirty-five minutes away in the middle of nowhere.

This Shit is Bananas!

Haha! You get the small banana!
I always settle for the small banana.
(Heh, if only, right?)

Nanner! Nanner! Nanner!
*Peels banana*
That's why I keep you around.
'Cause I take care of your banana.

Texts From Last Night

I think I have a problem, but the first step is admittance.
To your coffee addiction? You think that is bad, try going to a bar between your college classes and then heading to your sewing lab drunk.
You're classy, I see nothing wrong with that.
I did drink some imported beers, and if that isn't upscale, I don't know what is.
As long as you extend your pinky, you're in the fucking clear.

I can't wait 'til I have my own house so I can be naked at my discretion.
And bang.
Uhh, mostly just be naked, 'cause, you know, that isn't as offensive to guests.
Being offensive is underrated.
True fucking that.

Laughter Is Key

One evening, whilst stumbling about the internet, I came across a blog compiled of dialogue between a sassy, young couple. As I read on, the two became to feel painfully familiar. Somewhere, I'd heard the exact same wit and sarcasm before. The same salty discourse is the glue that binds my own relationship and not to mention, keeps the unconventionality alive. After forwarding a link to the blog to my boyfriend, Mike, and hearing his reaction, the next step was obvious. We needed a funny blog too! Thus, The Fashionista and the Five Head was born.

While the blog will be similar to it's inspiration, consisting of candid dialogue between my boyfriend and me, I'd like to spice it up. I'd like to air a little bit of what has kept me happy for the past six months. Together, the two of us are regular comedians, with the exception of the times we simply cannot stand each other. I've never been so delighted to be associated with someone who belongs to two such extremes. One minute, this man has me on top of the world and the next, I want to sit on his head (which I have). Somehow, we have manged to coexist for a half a year and keep the laughter alive. Sometimes the jokes are what keep us sane and push us forward (that, and beer, or so Mike insists). He challenges me and at times is beyond baffling, but for some reason, he is still my everything. I love, love, love my little fashionista barista.