alex awesome's bloggetry » Cute

Cats in Baskets

alex — Mon, 15 Mar 2010 05:20:57 +0000

“This is stupid.”
“This from the man who asked if there were more cute videos.”
“Yeah, of cats in baskets, being pulled up like an elevator. That is hilarious. Hey, hey, I know you’re blogging this. I know when you’re about to blog. Stop it. No. I just want to see some cats in baskets. I’m telling you, just stop. … Cats in baskets, muthafuckaa… Sign me up for that website. I know you’re one of the fuckers who stole my cloud song.”

“I know when you’re blogging stuff. I bet no one believes this is what I actually say. They’re just like, ’she’s making this up. Like usual.’”

Also:

Chihuahua!

alex — Sun, 07 Mar 2010 06:54:38 +0000

So, I’ve recently been waging a campaign against manfriend’s cold heart. More specifically, I’ve been trying to convince him that we should get a dog at some undisclosed point in the future that IS NOT NOW. We both laughed hysterically at this video:

After which he informed me, “this still doesn’t mean you can get a dog. Keep watching videos. Of other people’s dogs.”

Bill, the great lover of women

alex — Sat, 13 Feb 2010 16:26:01 +0000

There is something to be said for drunken encounters, and while getting philosophical-drunk last night, I’m pretty sure I proclaimed that beer was the great unifier. While walking down one of the little streets in Philadelphia, it’s inevitable that you’ll be waylaid by other drunk people standing outside smoking. This is precisely what happened last night.

One of these people was Bill. Bill and I got to talking:

“I like your… I like your…” he gestured towards my chest.
“You like my scarf?”

He nodded sadly.

“A cruder man would say he liked my rack, but you, sir, are a gentleman. I like my scarf too.”
“I love women.”
“I’m sure you do. I looked at you and I thought, that man is a great lover of women. What’s your name?”
“Billl.”
“Bill…”
“Billllll.”
“Bill: Great Lover of Women. That’s how history will remember you.”
“I love women a lot.”
“Oh yes. Not me, personally, of course, but many other women. Of the future.”

Bill nodded happily and turned to his friend.
“I have to go. I’m the lover of women. I have to love some women.”
“Oh, okay, I guess we’re gonna go then.”
“No. I have to go.”

And off Bill went, into the night. To love women. Or, far more likely, stumble home and sleep.