Welcome to Tall Curly Biscuit, the 4th funniest blog on the web. The best thing about having the word “Biscuit” in my blog title is that I no longer have to think about how to spell biscuit. This little blog is for all the folks who believe laughter makes the world go ’round.
At Home Depot or Lowes
Me: “Excuse me, where can I find the _______?”
Helpful store employee: “What do you need it for?”
Me: Thinking that’s a nosy question, but I answer anyway.
“I’m building/fixing/planting/painting/poisoning _______.”
(Overly) helpful store employee: “Why do you want that product?
Have you considered ______ instead?”
Me: Annoyed, because no one should question the hours of Internet research I’ve devoted to solving this problem.
Yes, this is me with work gloves, a glass of wine and a power drill. It was a lovely evening.
My dad HATES to be asked what he’s working on. He’s a construction and mechanic expert who does not need advice. Plus, he considers it an invasion of privacy when someone asks him what he’s building. Is the part in stock or not, buddy?
We came up with a list of ridiculous projects to claim we’re working on the next time a store employee asks. Feel free to use these responses for yourself.
“Why do you need that part?”
1. Give your best crazy eye and exclaim, “Oh, we’re GOING to Mars!”
2. “My dolphins need a bigger cage.”
“You mean aquarium?”
“No, a cage.”
3. “Umm…have you heard of the book 50 Shades of Grey? I’m building that room.”
4. “Ghost trap. I need a ghost trap — in a hurry.” Be sure to look panicked and use spooky hand gestures with this one.
5. “I’m building a pan to hold the WORLD’S LARGEST FLAN!!!”
6. “My butt has a crack in it.”
7. “I’m a producer for the new reality show Oops! You’re Dead!”
***Here’s an update from my last blog post, where I freaked out a woman I don’t know by recognizing her as the owner of a yellow submarine belt buckle she had worn two months earlier and matching her to a lost set of keys with a yellow submarine keychain: Two days after the night at the movies, I had something to return to that very customer service department where she worked. My husband was with me, and we joked about how funny it would be for me to go up to the counter and tell her in an intense, serious voice, “I blogged about you last night.” Thank goodness for all of us that she wasn’t there that day.***
The submarine belt buckle reminded me of the somewhat questionable clothing I’ve recently worn.
Me, in a bright green blouse and purple coat, ready for a party: How do I look? Is it too colorful?
Andy: Uhhh… good. Kinda like the Joker, but in a good way.
How is that good? Do I need to change?
Andy: It’s the Joker’s colors. Just like if I had on all black you’d say I looked like Batman.
No. No, I wouldn’t say that.
My husband and my best friend both criticize my clothing choices on a regular basis, but as long as they hurl creative insults, I’m okay with it. I recently brought home a fitted leopard print dress. I was a little unsure about what to wear to a special event, and I thought it was a safe move. Wait… I thought a full-body animal print was safe? Gosh, there’s a strong possibility I have horrible taste.
Do you like this dress?
Andy: Mmm, no. You look like a New Jersey mob wife. It fits well, but it’s too much. What’s with that gold chain on the neck? Is that part of the dress?
Yes, it’s part of the dress. This is a nice brand. You really don’t like it? Would you be embarrassed to be seen with me?
Yeah, I would. You look like a cougar at a Holiday Inn bar. I don’t like it at all.
What??? The Holiday Inn bar? I don’t even get the Hilton?
No, not the Hilton. This is definitely more of a Holiday Inn look.
My friend, who came over later to give an opinion: Mmm, I don’t know. Are those the shoes you would wear with it? (pointing to the black bootie heels I had out)
Yes… (slipping shoes on so she could get the full effect)
(snickering turning to outright laughter) You look like Stifler’s Mom.
Regarding Stifler’s mom from the American Pie movies: It’s not what I was going for.
So that was a solid no on the leopard print dress with extraneous gold chains.
A couple of weeks later these two told me that my new scarf looked like a Bill Cosby sweater. They advised that wearing the scarf and matching hat sent me over the edge into African Diplomat territory, but the scarf on its own was acceptable because Bill Cosby sweaters are still in the midst of a comeback. It was a risk I was willing to take. I looked Cosby-tastic on my recent trip to NYC and got preferred parking at several United Nations sites.
Check out these Bill Cosby sweater cookies:
You know you’ve reached the pinnacle of pop culture success when you’ve been embodied in sugar cookie form. Photo from kscakes.blogspot.com
What odd trinkets/ belt buckles/ scarves/ general weird clothing are you a fan of right now? Do you receive any entertaining insults?
In other words, how will I know what set of keys to match you up with? You probably need to read my last post for this to make any sense whatsoever.
I went to the movies and saw Les Miserables last night. Have you seen it yet? I love the debates about it flying around the internet. It’s more fun when we debate Les Mis, Shades of Gray, Twilight, and Elf on the Shelf instead of politics, guns, and sports, although I think people get equally worked up about all those subjects. (Have you ever hung out with a Twi-hard?) Overall I liked Les Mis, but I got distracted halfway through by an astonishing coincidence. Here’s what happened:
It was already dark when some friends and I got out of the car to go into the theater, but a set of keys on the ground in the parking lot caught my eye. I picked them up and looked around; the owner was nowhere in sight. The keychain had a yellow submarine on it. In the back of my mind I knew I had recently seen another yellow submarine, but I couldn’t pinpoint it. Hmm. I turned the keys in at the theater desk hoping that the owner was in the movies and not at one of the several surrounding restaurants or shops.
Once we were settled with our popcorn and drinks, I recognized one of the people sitting in front of me. She works in customer service at a store I frequent. She’s easy to remember because she has a very alternative look, but there was no reason for her to know me so I didn’t say hello.
Halfway through the movie, it dawned on me. The last place I saw a yellow submarine (besides on the keychain) was on this woman’s belt buckle when she helped me in customer service about two months earlier. I just knew that the keys had to be hers. I couldn’t concentrate on the movie anymore because 1) Marius sounded like a frog (in the movie), and 2) I could not wait to tell this chick that I found her keys that she probably didn’t even know were missing.
So, as soon as the good part of the credits were over, I tapped her on the shoulder and asked if she happened to be missing her keys. She replied, “Do they have a yellow submarine keychain?”
YES! Oh my gosh! Yes, they do!
Excited and breathless, I told her how I found them in the parking lot and I recognized her from the store and I knew she had a yellow submarine belt buckle so I figured they were hers and OH MY… She started to get a really creeped out look on her face.
I tried to pretend like this wasn’t weird by joking that everyone should have matching keys and belts so we’d know whose stuff belonged to who, but it didn’t help. Then I started explaining how amazing this was. Frankly, I expected her to be a little more in awe of the coincidence and my sharp observational skills. However, she pretty much mumbled thanks, looked at me like I was a stalker, and then promptly got up to get her keys from the front desk. I wonder if she suspected foul play. There I thought I was used by God to make her day better, and she thought I was sent from Satan to freak her out.
On the way out of the theater, I explained the whole story to my friends who had only witnessed part of the conversation, and they were appropriately amazed. THANK GOODNESS they were because I was gonna be really disappointed if nobody thought this was remarkable. They laughed about how she must have thought I was so weird, but the whole situation was a series of cool coincidences. I found the keys, the owner happened to be sitting right in front of me in in the same movie in a huge theater/restaurant/shopping complex, I recognized her, and I remembered she had a yellow submarine belt buckle.
Tell me that’s not cool. Oh, and I’d like to go by Sherlock from now on. (Have you seen that new show Elementary about Sherlock Holmes? It’s a fun show! I highly recommend.) But I’m actually not like Sherlock at all. I read Les Mis the book, listened to the soundtrack repeatedly in college, saw the play, and still couldn’t remember the story. It was all new to me. In my defense, I’ve read several books by French and English authors about Paris; it’s like a French prostitute stew up in that part of my brain. And I think I’ll end with that statement.
Hi, dear readers. Did you have a good weekend? My birthday was Saturday, and it was lovely. We didn’t have any huge plans, mostly because I was simply drunk on power. Just the knowledge that I could make my husband, kids, and parents do whatever I wanted was enough for me.
I asked for nothing. My husband wanted me to ask for a rain jacket so I will stop stealing his extra jacket the one time every two years that we happen to be out in the rain (he holds grudges, apparently), but I didn’t ask for anything.* I could have slept late, but instead we got up early to help with a service project. I could have requested that we drive into the city to go to my favorite Thai restaurant, but instead we saw the new James Bond movie and ate pizza. I could have asked for an ice cream cake, but instead I selflessly baked my own birthday cakes (yes, plural). Ah, the supreme control spent on goodness for the family.
The power trip wore off by 4:00 p.m. when I started craving fine leather goods and lemongrass, but whatever. Then it was time for wine.
Family and friends gave me some fun and thoughtful gifts—they’re sweet! I have to share one of the gifts with you: my mom helped my 10-year-old daughter craft a beautiful box out of paint and molded clay.
Isn’t this pretty?
I was almost choked up with tears of joy from the thoughtfulness, but there was more. My daughter insisted that I open the box.
Cue the sarcastic horror music and laugh track. If anyone searches “decapitated head” and finds this humor blog, I think they’ll be disappointed.
This surprise decapitated Barbie head was good for multiple laughs throughout the day, and I have a feeling she’ll show up in someone’s Christmas present.
I love humor gifts, and this one reminded me of another funny gift. I used to—and still do—keep a healthy supply of restaurant napkins in my glove compartment. One of my favorite gifts ever was when my college roomies went around to every fast food restaurant near the campus and collected napkins for my truck. Who knew Wendy’s napkins could be so thoughtful and hilarious?
Hmm. I guess you had to be there.
Well, I’m over this low maintenance birthday thing. The power trip alone no longer works because right now I have to wash the cake stands from my birthday cakes that I made. Yep, I become high maintenance starting NOW. I hereby demand ice cream cake, Thai food, and genuine leather goods for no good reason.
What’s your ideal birthday—or for those among you who are also high maintenance—your ideal regular day?
*Further explanation: My husband owns a water-repellent jacket and an official rain jacket. Once every two years, he lets me borrow his official rain jacket because it’s the smaller of the two. He’s nice about it, but it secretly drives him crazy. Both jackets are ugly, so I don’t know why he cares. I can only figure that he’s a rules guy, and it’s important to him that he is wearing Official Waterproof Fabric in the drizzle. And he’s willing to spend big money so I can have an official rain jacket of my very own. WE PRACTICALLY LIVE IN THE DESERT. But, guess what? After my birthday—after he had given me a non-waterproof present because I refused his rain jacket overtures—I found the perfect pink rain jacket at an outlet store and purchased it. My husband practically thanked me for spending money on what I consider to be a frivolous item. There’s a lesson in here somewhere, ladies. Please don’t use it for too much evil.
Everyone has their own opinions on what makes good food. I was reminded of that during the Romanian Food Festival last weekend. I suspect the little skinless sausages were made of some very powerful lamb, which we are not used to at all. To us it tasted like gamey Slavic sweat, and my husband said he knew why Dracula (from Romania) switched over to feeding on humans.
Between that and the helpful reader comments on Brussels sprouts and squash from my last post, I thought about all the helpful foodie hints that I’ve collected over the years, and I want to share.
- As of this weekend, I know that lamb + caraway seed = smells and tastes like a band of Gypsies.
- People who eat the grapes in fruit salad march to the beat of their own drummer. Weirdoes!
- Even when you are in an alcohol and snack emergency, DO NOT MIX Flavor Blasted Goldfish and red wine. This causes a flavor blasted chemical reaction that will make your whole party very ill.
Consuming two glasses of wine and Flavor Blasted Goldfish will chemically react to create another kind of blast that you do not want to experience. Hey, I didn’t have any other snack food at my house, okay? This is a reenactment, but in real life, I passed out in the restroom for an unknown amount of hours. My friends who partook in the Goldfish had this too. WEIRD.
- We get spoiled to Halloween bounty very quickly. Look at me complaining about the Butterfingers and Snickers polluting our candy bucket.
- There is no wrong time to add a pepper of some kind to your food, but too much Cinnamon Trident will permanently burn your tongue.
- Do not enter a roach eating contest, no matter how tasty they look. A man in Florida recently died from eating 50 live roaches to win a competition. The prize was a python, but he never even got to enjoy his new snake because he was dead.
- Nobody knows what the blue Gatorade is called, but it probably includes the word blast. And what’s the clear flavor called? How are we supposed to speak intelligently about drinks that don’t have fruit names to match the color?
- You can eat this candy and consider it a health food because of the ginger. Just like I do with those delicious Ricola cough drops! They’re medicine.
No matter what, eat your veggies and have a lovely day!