Tag Archives: dinosaurs make me happy

a work in progress

Yesterday Ari and I went to the Brooklyn Museum because it was raining and it was the only thing we could think of to do that didn’t involve sitting on the couch.

I know you enjoy hearing about the intense boringness that is my life, so I have provided you some of the highlights from my day at the center of art and smelly old things.

  • The secret, apparently, to getting your collection featured in a museum is…  Boners.  That’s it.  Just put some boners on your art and there you have it. I counted at least seven different installations with boners galore yesterday.  Who knew that when I was 16 and busy staring at Leslie Carter in study hall I was creating a work of art?
  • Security guards at museums are not your friend.  They were giving me The Stink Eye the entire day, and I was seriously unnerved by it.  Of course, it might have had something to do with my Boner Speech that I made to Ari.
  • When we came upon a little stone statue of a bear, the title was “Crouching Bear.”  I remarked to Ari that I would like that to be my nickname from now on, saying, “It’s perfect.  Because I’m strong, but people don’t expect anything crazy from me.  Then, suddenly, I attack!”  She sighed and said that “Grouchy Bear” was a much better fit.  Sadly, she was right.
  • At one point I was talking loudly and Ari told me to stop being so loud.  Of course I got louder and started wondering why you have to be quiet in museums in the first place.  The art can’t hear you.  What, am I going to wake up the boobless mummy?  Is the ancient carpet going to rouse from its beauty sleep and maybe start vacuuming itself?  Because frankly, it could use it.  Silence is for losers.  And boobless dead people.
  • The people who work at the gift shops have to have the most boring jobs ever.  I was about ten seconds away from poking this woman yesterday just to see if she was still alive.  I also saw a pretty sweet dinosaur key chain and I wanted to know how much it was.  Yes, of course it was T-Rex.  I’m not some kind of idiot.

That about sums it up.

As you can see, I can be quite the entertaining museum guest, providing you with useful information and exclusive insights.  In fact, I may have just found a new career path.

I wonder if Leslie Carter is job hunting too.

 

(New links are up on the Okay Playa! page, so please go check them out and read some great bloggers.)

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raiders of the lost table setting

My apartment has many things in it.  It has strategically hidden Terrible Towels, because Ari won’t let me hang them where everyone can admire their beauty.

It also has tons of silverware.

If you’re like us, you have mismatched silverware collected over time from various, unknown sources.  Our silverware drawer is like an archaeological dig.  I reach into it, pull out a spoon and declare, “Ah!  What a fine spoon this is!  An excellent find!”

Then I eat my Kix.

The one thing I don’t like though, is when I get a Little Fork.

You know, that fork that looks like it was made for a baby tyrannosaurus?  Or maybe something not that cool – maybe just a very small man.

When I end up with the Little Fork, it’s like I’m being punished.

Me: [Noticing the Little Fork mocking me from the table] “Uh, isn’t there a bigger one?”

Ari: [Sitting down] “Well, maybe next time you’ll remember to take out the trash like I asked you.”

[I stare down at the Little Fork.  It is laughing at me.  It really is.]

Ari: [Enjoying her Regular Fork] “Now eat your peas, though you might only be able to eat them one at a time.”

[She enjoys saying this]

Why does the Little Fork even exist?

I’m not a child!

I need a fork that can pick up large chunks of somewhat enjoyable food and shovel it into my mouth at speeds that alarm those that eat with me!

From now on, when I’m faced with having to prepare for a meal, I am Indiana Jones.

I’m going in there – ruggedly handsome as always – grabbing the biggest, mightiest fork I can find and getting out of there.

I’m not sure if I’ll wear the hat, but I probably will.

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