Category Archives: Not even kidding

Because when you come here, this is what you get: analyses of movies you watched a decade ago

Internet! It has been so long since last we met! In this capacity, anyway. I’ve still been on Twitter. And Facebook. And IM. I’ve even been doing that texting thing the kids are talking about these days. Have you heard of this? I highly recommend it.

ANYHOW. I’ve recently had some assigned writing, and if there is anything that makes you dust off the blog you write on for funsies, it’s needing some way to procrastinate, am I right? And, yeah, I have kids to watch and dishes to do, but typing words in a box for free? WHAT BEATS THAT?

Now, I have a reason why I want to talk to you today, and the reason I want to talk to you today is that I recently re-watched the Lord of the Rings trilogy. And when I say I re-watched the trilogy, I don’t want you getting any ideas like I sat down and watched it properly, all the way through. Or even sat down and watched a single one of the movies properly, all the way through. I think it took us 7 (seven) nights to get all the way through. What with the aforementioned children and wanting to sleep. WHILE I was watching the movies, I was live-texting Ian, as one does, with several questions and observations, because he knows everything and it’s my duty to make sure he feels really useful and full of knowledge. I’m doing him a FAVOR, guys. And FINE, I’m sure none of these are new observations, and there were blogs a decade ago, so this has probably all been said, up in your brains or otherwise, but just HUMOR ME because I HAVE QUESTIONS.

So, okay, these movies. You’ve seen them, yes? You have. Here’s the thing: none of this ever had to happen! Do you REALIZE that? Am I the only one who screams at Elrond every single time he just lets Isildur walk out of Mount Doom all proudly clutching his precious? YOU ARE A MAGICAL ELF AND YOU HAD HIM RIGHT THERE. Just, come ON, Elrond, throw the dude in the fire. THROW HIM IN THE FIRE. I think pretty much he knew the next 3000+ years of living might get a little dull if there weren’t evil in the world, so he just let that crap go.

FRODO HATES YOU, ELROND.

Another thing that confuses me is these guys are wandering the open countryside, running into people left and right, and EVERYBODY KNOWS EVERYBODY. Is there some sort of Middle Earth Facebook that Tolkien never mentions? They know each other BY NAME. All, oh, yeah, you! You’re Isildur’s heir, right? That dude who died 3000 years ago and we somehow kept an eye on that bloodline through ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY generations. It’s like that part in The Emperor’s New Groove where the kid is jumping rope and tells Yzma she’s so old, she’s more like his great, great, great, great … great, great, great GREAT GREAT AUNT.

A hundred and fifty greats, guys.

And, okay, orcs. Those are some nasty nasties, right? Here is what I want to know, and maybe you know and this will be obvious to you, but I do not know and when I had the thought it blew my mind, but here it is:

ARE THERE LADY ORCS?

Like, back in OrcVille or wherever, waiting for their handsome and doting husbands to return from their noble war? These things are pretty much grown in pits in the ground, right? Or are those just the ones that Saruman harvests?

And are there FRIENDLY orcs? Meek orcs? Kindly orc neighbors who are all, “Hey, I had some extra maggots, so I baked you this pie! I hope you like it!” And then what can you even DO? You have to say THANK YOU and possibly even eat the pie, because yeah sure THIS orc is a nice orc, but he probably KNOWS people, you know? He’s got a cousin who knows a guy who knows a guy from Isengard.

Yeah. Just eat the pie.

WHAT ELSE DID I WONDER?

Oh, right. Gandalf! First of all, this dude is a war-monger. He is just going from place to place–I am TELLING YOU, watch the movies with this in your head and you will see–from place to place telling people, oh yeah, you gotta fight. You’re gonna need to rally your troops and fight. And every single person is all, NAAAAAH, I don’t feel like fighting, and sometimes it is the SAME PERSON, MULTIPLE TIMES, saying naaaah, I have fought enough. And then he’s got his staff which sometimes is like this magical glowstick of making those creepy Nazgul dragons fly away and other times he just hits people with it. If it can be a magical glowstick, Gandalf, please do use it in that capacity AT ALL TIMES.

So he’s Gandalf the Grey, and then Gandalf the White, and SINCERELY I want to know, was he Gandalf the Black at some point? Do they all start at grey? Is there something in between? Gandalf the Charcoal? Did he get to skip over Gandalf the Heather Grey? Like, you take out a balrog, you get your white glowstick no questions asked?

I think one of my favorite parts is the battle for Helm’s Deep, when they put the pile of bombs under the wall, and one orc is running toward it with his torch, and Aragorn is all, “LEGOLAS SHOOT THE GUY WITH THE TORCH!” As though if he takes him out, the other few thousand orcs will be all, “Damn! I was SO sure that would work. OH WELL. Ladders it is!”

DO NOT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE PHYSICS OF THEM HOISTING UP THOSE RICKETY LADDERS TEEMING WITH ORCS.

Take it from someone who currently lives in a 3-story townhouse: Minas Tirith looks an exhausting place to live.

Theoden’s beard is green, and it gets greener as the movie goes on.

I mentioned this on Twitter, but, you guys, I can’t tell Boromir and Faramir apart. When Faramir shows up in Two Towers, every single time I’m like HEY DIDN’T HE DIE OH RIGHT THIS IS THE OTHER ONE. Now, I fully admit I have never looked up both actors and seen their pictures side-by-side, and probably that would make it OBVIOUS that they are not the same person, but inside of my head, they are exactly the same person. I do this with a lot of people. Like, when I picture Phil Collins? Bob Newhart. Every time. I don’t know WHY, I don’t think they look alike, I just assign celebrity faces to other celebrities. IT IS JUST MORE EFFICIENT, OKAY?

Speaking of the -mir twins, we all know about one of them saying how one does not simply walk into Mordor, right?

WELL THEN HOW DOES SAM DO EXACTLY THAT?

He just waltzes on in there, no problem, I’ll just wander up the tower to exactly where they are keeping Frodo. I GOT THIS, GUYS.

And now the ring. The ring is IN Mordor. Allll this time Sauron has been sensing it approaching, and now it is IN HIS LANDS and he’s TOTES UNAWARE?

SHENANIGANS.

Speaking of Sauron, is there anything more unintentionally hilarious than his lighthouse eye looking all over the place as his tower crumbles?

And then we come to the end. Well, the sort of end. This movie acts like it is ending a good five times before it actually ends, which just makes the actual ending so sad because every time I watch it I forget which ending is REALLY the end and so I’m hoping there’s still one more ending, preferably with Aragorn and Legolas bromancing it up, but WHATEVER, anyway, the first end, and Sam and Frodo are all floating on the lava equivalent of an iceberg, and then Gandalf swoops in on an eagle, and I finally FINALLY figured out how he knew they were still alive!

photo-2

Reception in Mordor remained surprisingly good, even after the tower fell. Apparently.

Anyway. Lady orcs. THINK ABOUT IT.

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Filed under Not even kidding

No picture of them will ever top this one

WAPOW

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Filed under Little lion man, My girls, Not even kidding, Photo essay

There are worse ways soap operas could have screwed me up, but I guess I’m only on my first marriage, so there’s still time

As I said on the Twitter last night, we’ve got PINWORM all up in our house. All up in one very small part of our house, anyway, and that one very small part is Roo’s bottom. I’m hoping that’s the only spot, anyway. PLEASE LET THAT BE THE ONLY SPOT. I mean, we already all got the HAND FOOT AND MOUTH DISEASE, so maybe this can be the one highly contagious thing only one of us gets? Ha. Ha.

Let me pretend.

Well, no, if we only get ONE of those passes, then I’m saving it for the HEAD LICE.

It took me way too long to figure out. She’d been sleeping poorly for weeks, but I thought it was just the holidays. Then a growth spurt. I didn’t even associate it with the hands-down-the-back-of-the-pants we caught her doing a couple of times, because, well, 3-year-olds just DO that sort of thing. Then yesterday she actually complained about incessant itchiness, and my Mom Brain kicked in. Thankfully the pediatrician trusted my assessment and called in medicine without us having to scotch tape her nethers. (Though we did, the two of us, go in there with a flashlight last night to check things out, and I don’t ever want to do that EVER AGAIN IN MY LIFE except I have to again TONIGHT so we can keep an eye on Vio to see if she needs to be treated as well. AIN’T NO PARTY LIKE A TAPEWORM PARTY.) So anyway if around 10PM tonight you’re wondering what Matt and I are doing, think of us fondly with a pig-shaped flashlight trying not to wake the children with the cries of our 21-year-old selves who really had no idea what hilarity would befall them.

I like to think if our life were a movie, there would be shots of us in our carefree college days, doing the typical college student things — jigsaw puzzles at 4AM and going to movies at the student union on Friday nights and drinking way too much Dr. Pepper, whatever we were totally awesome — mixed in with flashes forward of all the poop-related hijinx associated with child-rearing.

Except I don’t really do that just with flashes forward (I keep wanting to call them FLASH FORWARDS, but NO, DIANE. NO.) Especially with things like this PINWORM situation. There must be a moment, out there in space and time, where Roo picked UP the PINWORM. I keep seeing things in slow motion, as though there is some magical camera that RECORDED the moment that they would then use the footage of in a sitcom or something. Slow motion as she wipes her mouth while sitting in the grocery cart! A (canned) gasp from the (fake) studio audience! Or after holding hands with her friend down the street who unknowingly has the same affliction! AUDIENCE GROAN. As I’m trying to launder everything in the house (I NEVER STOP DOING LAUNDRY LIKE I SAID LAST WEEK AND I EVEN CAUGHT UP ON IT AND THEN BRAGGED [TO ROO, FOR SOME REASON] THAT I HAD CONQUERED IT AND NOW BLAAAAH) I keep picturing stills of two microscopic PINWORM eggs resting within the tangles of Rapunzel’s hair or wafting gently through the room (THEY CAN DO THAT) and settling on one of Leo’s biting toys.

I also do it with lost items. Whatever I’m missing, I’m imagining someone at home is getting a shot of the item, panning out and fading to black. The back to my earring! LOOK UNDER THE BED, DIANE! IT IS UNDER THE BED, JUST BEYOND WHERE YOU CHECKED BEFORE!

You guys, I do this ALL THE TIME. And the worst part is, part of me ACTUALLY BELIEVES IT. I seriously, a tiny bit, believe that I could find that thing I lost if only I could see the FAKE SURVEILLANCE VIDEO.

Of course, applying the Temerity Jane Rule of the World, I can’t be the ONLY one who does this, so out yourselves! We can have a crazy little party up in here!

I just pictured shots of each of you calmly closing this tab and finding something better to do. You are all SO screwed when I get my hands on the footage.

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Filed under Motherhood uncensored, My girls, Not even kidding

New year quick takes: now with less quickness!

1. I tried to do that questionnaire thing that was circulating involving year-end recaps and blah di blah, but by the time I was 2/3 of the way through, I couldn’t stand the thought of reading it back over. And if I didn’t want to read it, I knew YOU didn’t want to read it, so you can go ahead and thank me for that when you finally make your way to the bottom of this post and the comment form. Not yet, obviously, because you don’t want to miss any of the rest of my piercing wit. BUT! When the time comes, you can feel free to thank me. 2011 was a DOOZY of a year, to put it mildly. I’m trying to focus (now that it’s OVER MUAHAHAHA I WIN 2011!) on the blessings from last year — like the ice cream that came in the mail from Maureen and, you know, the baby — instead of plotting ways to destroy the life of Evil Pharmacist.

2. Which … did I even talk here about Evil Pharmacist? From the Evil Compounding Pharmacy? If you follow me on Twitter, you saw me have this breakdown involving probably seven straight hours of shouting. <LONG RANTING RANT REDACTED> I just deleted a good 600 words that basically boil down to: the pharmacy said they were giving us corn-free medicine, but they were not. We stopped giving him the medicine, his eczema stopped flaring up constantly, he caught up on motor skill milestones, and now I can eat almost anything so long as it’s corn-free (so almost nothing but it feels like almost anything). I wish I could somehow get that pharmacist to understand what she put us through. MONTHS of eating the way I was eating, and it was all because he was continuing to ingest corn. I’m furious, more furious than I have EVER BEEN, so furious I can’t even think of an ironic sort of thing to put here in second place, like AND I AM A JOSS WHEDON FAN SO I KNOW ANGER WAH DOLLHOUSE or whatever, because I AM JUST THAT MAD. I almost quit nursing him! DEEP BREATHS WHILE ALSO FANTASIZING ABOUT FORCE-FEEDING THE PHARMACIST THREE MONTHS’ WORTH OF RICE AND OATMEAL.

3. Don’t we all feel better now, having that off our chests? Let’s just relax for this quick take. You don’t even have to read this one. Me mentioning Dollhouse got me thinking about Paul Ballard, though, so that’s another thing you can thank me for in the comments.

4. The actual reason I sat down to write this post today is that the housework is just out of control now. It’s smacking me in the face with its not-doneness pretty much constantly. Every time I think, “Let’s do all the laundry!” I start with the kids’ laundry, because they get one hamper between the three of them, and of course it is always full. Especially in “winter” which means putting one of our two long-sleeved t-shirts under a short-sleeved t-shirt and applying one (1) extra hoodie/sweater for each 10-15 degree drop in temperature, meaning we dirty all of the things on each of the days. [ASIDE: Where would we even be as an internet right now if not for Allie Brosh giving us the phrase “CLEAN ALL THE THINGS”? What would we even SAY? She’s defined a generation! Or at least an internet meme cycle!] Anyway, I always start with their laundry, but by the time I get to the end of their laundry, there is no more time to do other laundry. Then the next day I feel like “WOW! I did so much laundry yesterday I won’t need to do any today!” so I don’t do any and then the next day I STILL feel that way because I’m still folding the 900 pairs of pants and socks and onesies that fit into a single hamper at which point the laundry is even more out of control and I think “NOW LET’S START WITH THE CHILDREN.” If I keep putting their laundry’s oxygen mask on first, I’m going to be naked and WITHOUT AIR.

5. The actual reason I sat down to write Quick Take #4 was to tell you the actual reason I sat down to write this post today and I am now actually going to tell you what that reason was which is that I think maybe it’s gotten to the point where I need to make myself some sort of CHORE CHART. Like I am five. But basically breaking down the things that need doing and then assigning them to days of the week. For the most part, I manage to keep up with the kitchen and sort of the laundry and a good chunk of the tidying, but you don’t want to know how long it’s been since the mopping or the sweeping or the other deep-cleaning things that need doing FAR more often than we do them. So something like a laundry schedule where I always do linens on Tuesdays and whites on Wednesdays and then always do floors on Fridays and dust on … well, let’s not get out of hand. Do any of you do that? Or are you just really awesome at remembering what needs doing? WELL GOOD FOR YOU I NEED A CHART.

6. Another thing we’ve had going on around here lately is teething. I am not even talking about THE BABY exclusively, because all three of my children are cutting teeth right now. All of them. How. How did they coordinate this? I mean, for the love, Vio is cutting her first 6-year molar at the age of 5, and Roo is cutting her last 2-year molar at the age of 3, so they really REALLY had to work to line that up. AND AND. They are in the same place (upper left) in their mouths. Leo is working on cutting his first tooth, one of the bottom front ones as babies are wont to do, which is the exact tooth Vio just LOST, so she is cutting her first ADULT tooth in that EXACT SAME SPOT. I can make Venn diagrams with overlap on the teeth my DIFFERENTLY AGED children are cutting.

7. Today is my half-birthday! I mentioned that on Twitter this morning, and it is something that stupidly excites me (on the years I actually notice the date, anyway. Usually I’ll find myself on January 7th or 8th REALLY REALLY bummed that I missed it.) Another reason I love my half-birthday is that it is on TOPSY TURVY DAY. If you don’t know what Topsy Turvy Day is then you aren’t as big a fan of Disney’s Hunchback of Notre Dame as I am which basically means you don’t know what Topsy Turvy Day is because I have never met ANYONE ELSE who actually liked that movie and SO WHAT if I was 14 when it came out IT SPOKE TO ME GOD HELP THE OUTCASTS etc. etc., but in one of the songs they sing, “Scurvy knaves are extra scurvy/on the 6th of January/all because it’s Topsy Turvy day!” Really though the best part about it being my half-birthday is that that means tomorrow is Leo’s half-birthday, making him a ripe old One Half years old. I am really really excited about age one-half, you guys. So! Be extra scurvy for me, won’t you?

(More quick takes here.)

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Filed under Little lion man, Motherhood uncensored, My girls, Not even kidding, Quick takes

I know the pasta water thing is gross, but that’s not even the grossest idea I had

So this all started when Emily tweeted

HORK

First off, can you even imagine? Watching your child eat that combination of foods? Just my imagination is REELING at the thought. Dairy + citrus is NOT ALLOWED. No! Not even that! Don’t tell me in the comments how it’s totally okay in this one situation, because it’s not. (Note: chocolate FLAVORED with a hint of citrus is different. I’m talking the juicy actual citrus fruit. It is not okay. It’s never okay. No.) Cereal commercials are great at trying to get you to believe it’s normal to drink a glass of orange juice with your Rice Krispies. You should also eat some toast and some fruit, too. It’s part of this complete breakfast. Does anyone really eat all that? I MAY BE STRAYING FROM THE TOPIC.

But anyway, this sparked a whole discussion about different foods eaten in combinations with different drinks and how all of us are gross and if you want to know all about that conversation you should clearly follow all the hilarious people I follow because this is just the sort of thing we do with our lives. It got me thinking how YooHoo is not even a little bit delicious. But more than it not being delicious, it is NOT CHOCOLATE MILK. Do you know how many times in my life I was offered chocolate milk, an offer I gleefully accepted, only to then be provided with an obnoxious yellow can of MURKY CHOCOLATE-HINTED WATER? It’s like someone took a Hershey’s Kiss, dropped it in a pot of old pasta water, and then started ladling it into cans and serving it to children.

I just googled, and that’s actually how they make it. Huh.

You know what else drives me nuts with chocolate? When you excitedly order a hot fudge sundae from somewhere, completely expecting a thick velvety chocolate topping, and you are served ice cream topped with Hershey’s syrup. THAT IS NOT THE SAME AS HOT FUDGE. It’s not even in the same category! I know this, because when I made the categories, I filed “hot fudge” under “YES PLEASE” and “Hershey’s syrup” under “BUT WHY?”

Trust me. I am a LIBRARIAN.

You guys, we have to stop the madness! I don’t really know how, but we have to! Because these things are not even sort of chocolate. And before you start thinking I’m some crazy chocolate snob, let me assure you, I AM NOTHING OF THE SORT. No. My proof is that my favorite hot fudge comes on a sundae from McDonald’s. I know. So. Not a chocolate snob, just someone in possession of a tongue with fully operational taste buds.

AND. TOOTSIE ROLLS. Look, I love Tootsie Rolls. Even more than that, I love the big old bag of Tootsie Roll mix. I EVEN LOVE THE DOTS. My brother and I used to fight over the Dots. Dots are awesome. But Tootsie Rolls? NOT CHOCOLATE. The flavor of a Tootsie Roll is “tootsie roll,” Mr. Wonka, and I will accept NO OTHER answers. Really, you’d think Willy would have more respect for chocolate. Do the Oompa Loompas really believe they taste like chocolate? I doubt it. You’d get drowned in the chocolate river for so much as suggesting it.

What am I forgetting here? I know there are other foods out there masquerading themselves as chocolatey goodness, but I’m so hot with YOOHOO TOOTSIE IMPOSTOR FUDGE rage, I can’t remember what they are.

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It’s uh-me, dashoff-o

Seriously, I don’t know that anyone should watch this. I mean, clearly you should, because there was effort put in on my part (not really) and it’s super entertaining (it’s not).

I should have gone into sales!

But anyway, LOTS of ladies who are going to the Blathering (and some who are NOT) have been doing these accent vlogs, and I decided if I was going to keep whining at people to do them, I should get with the program and make one myself. (Note: no one asked me to do one. I’m just ASSUMING that everyone wants to hear my lovely voice.)

Because last year? At the Blathering? I HAD NONE VOICE. NONE.

So here I am! (I apologize for the weird background sound … my Macbook is a few years old and the microphone probably has a Cheerio in it or something.)

If you want to join in, here’s what you’re supposed to do:

Say the following words:

Aunt, route, wash, oil, theatre, iron, salmon, caramel, fire, water, sure, data, ruin, crayon, toilet, New Orleans, pecan, both, again, probably, spitting image, Alabama, lawyer, coupon, mayonnaise, syrup, pajamas, caught

And answer these questions:

What is it called when you throw toilet paper on a house?

What is the bug that curls into a ball when you touch it?

What is the bubbly carbonated drink called?

What do you call gym shoes?

What do you say to address a group of people?

What do you call the kind of spider that has an oval-shaped body and extremely long legs?

What do you call your grandparents?

What do you call the wheeled contraption in which you carry groceries at the supermarket?

What do you call it when rain falls while the sun is shining?

What is the thing you use to change the TV channel?

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Failing by way of setting yourself up to succeed

So hey! I had a baby! He’s really cute and doesn’t let me eat anything but rice and beans, but I guess I’ll keep him anyway. But let’s not talk about that.

See, okay. We moved into our house over five years ago. We moved in here with one not-yet-fully-cooked baby in the ol’ uterus, and now we’ve got three actual children. A lot can go down in five years, apparently.

Now, I’ve talked before about how bad I am about decorating the house. I even wrote a post like a year or two ago (I’d go looking for it, but then I’d read it and realize it says all the stuff I’m about to say and that would ruin EVERYTHING) about how I hate stuff but I was going to make an effort and maybe paint some walls or get throw pillows or whatever it is you people who are good at this just do ON A WHIM.

I haven’t done any of those things. What I HAVE done is have more children so I have the I’m Too Busy to Decorate excuse. Okay, I didn’t have them JUST for that, but the early baby days suck and I need some benefit.

I did try to do some things! I swear! And what I did was hang this picture frame I got from an end cap at Target for CHEAP (orange stickers, my precious). See, it’s one of those MONTAGE frames or whatever they are supposed to be called. You can put lots of pictures in it. A multi-picture picture frame. But I asked Matt to hang it before I actually had photos printed to put in it, at which point it had ALREADY been sitting in a closet collecting dust for at least six months.

“If we wait around for me to pick out pictures and order prints, we’ll be waiting forever. If you hang it now, the stock photos will annoy me and I’ll be more apt to order prints.”

You guys. YOU GUYS.

HE HUNG THAT THING OVER A YEAR AGO AND IT STILL HAS NO PICTURES IN IT. My family teases me every time they are here. But do you know how many photos we have? DO YOU EVEN KNOW? And if I HAD put photos in it over a year ago, do you think they’d still be CURRENT? I had a four-year-old and a one-year-old back then! Did you read the part above about a whole extra child? I WOULD BE BEHIND ANYWAY.

And please. Don’t think I’m writing this to be all ISN’T IT ADORABLE HOW MUCH OF A SLACKER I AM? Be amazed by my precious personality quirks! No. Not that. Because I hate that. I hate when ANY OF YOU do that. Really. It makes me crazy. That’s why I’m disclaiming all up in here. Because this? This is a PROBLEM. It’s a problem I have JUST figured out I even have. Because.

That’s not the only thing like that I’ve done. This morning my brother (I love you, Scotty! I’m not mad about this! We ALL do it!) came by to hang out with the kids (and me, sort of, I guess, possibly, I mean we are RELATED and all) and tracked in a little bit of dirt. NOT a big deal. But it would be even LESS of a big deal if there were a mat inside the front door on which to wipe one’s feet. (We have one OUTSIDE the door, but it’s a piece of crap from IKEA, and I swear it just makes our shoes DIRTIER.) We used to have a mat there! We really did. For like the first year we lived here. Then it got ratty. So you know what I said?

“Let’s just throw it out. If we leave it there, I’ll never bother replacing it, because every time I see one in the store I’ll think, ‘We already have one. It’s dirty, but it’s good enough.'” So we threw it out.

YUP. STILL HAVEN’T REPLACED IT. In fact, it has been so many years since we even had a mat there, I’d forgotten it was an OPTION. I haven’t even been looking! Just sweeping up little piles of dirt by the front door on a near daily (FINE, weekly, if we’re lucky) basis.

Do you do this? Try to trick Future You by setting up a situation in which she is GUARANTEED SUCCESS only to have her laugh in your face? I AM MAKING IT SO EASY FOR YOU, FUTURE ME. Man. It’s almost like she’s exactly as smart as I am.

DEEP

Whatever. It’s not like my photographs could possibly be more awesome than these.

 

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