a roundup of random things:

[gyzym]

One: Conversations with My Father

Okay, in order to understand this properly, you need to be able to picture the man, so allow me to say two words to you: Jewish Mafia. There's an image in your head, right? Of a large, swarthy guy in a business suit smoking a big cigar? Yeah, okay, that's my dad. And the cigar is a Cuban, in case you were wondering.

He's not actually a member of the Jewish Mafia, of course. He's a businessman! And people are fucking terrified of him, which is deeply, deeply hilarious, because he is actually the silliest man on earth. But most people don't know about the large collection of tie-dye and the Grateful Dead cover bands he's been taking me to see since I was 14 and the ridiculously-in-love way he looks at my mom, so I guess I can't blame them.

(Side note: my parents have the cutest love story ever. They met in a prison literature class in high school, did a project together--my stoner father cheated off my straight-A mother's tests and totally thought he was getting away with it all subtle-like--and then went their separate ways. Three years later, as college juniors, they ran into each other at a party. They've been married 24 years. For their anniversary this summer, my father tracked down a newspaper article that was published about the field trip they took to a prison during that lit class; the photo the paper used is of the two of them sorting through books. My dad got it framed and put a plaque on it that says "We were always meant to be together." My mother spent days moving it around the house, trying to decide where she'd see it the most. &hearts)

OKAY, POINT BEING, tonight I went to dinner with my dad and my bb brother, and this happened:

Me: *makes a Hemingway reference, because my family tries not to judge me for what a geek I am*
My father: Hahaha, and then he cut off his ear.
Me: ...what?
My father: Oh, shit, that wasn't him, was it?
My 11 year old brother: YOU SAID SHIT AHAHAHAHHA
Me: No, Dad, that wasn't him. That was Van Gogh.
My father: Yeah, I juxtapose those words sometimes.
Me: But. But. But they're not even--they don't sound alike, they're not even in the same fields...
My father: You want to talk about how you thought the word "epitome" was pronounced "epi-tome" until you were thirteen? Because we can talk about that, if you want.
Me: ...Well played, sir.

Then I went to go pick up some shit from the house, and on my way out he calls me back into the family room with "HEY, HEY, YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS." I go back in there, and he gestures to the television, where a man whose face is turned away from the camera is singing showtunes.

My father: Guess who that is.
Me: Michael Buble?
My father: Wait for it...
Man on the TV: *turns to the camera*
My father and I, together: NILES CRANE!
My father: Okay, you can go now.
Me: That was all you wanted? This was a "Hark, for it is Niles Crane!" situation?
My father: Like you don't brake for Niles Crane sightings.
Me: You are ridiculous.
My father: *sings the Fraiser theme song as I go*

In conclusion: my extended family may be wacko-cuckoo-nuts, but by immediate family MORE THAN makes up for it.

Two: Conversations With angelgazing

I've been meaning to post this ridiculousness for days:

gyzym: ....NOW I WANT TO WRITE A FIC WHERE THE TEAM ENDS UP BEING ITEMS IN THE FRIDGE
gyzym: BY ACCIDENT
gyzym: BECAUSE THE MARK'S SUBCONSCIOUS BLOWS
angelgazing: BWAHAHAHAHA
angelgazing: EAMES IS THE RANCH: USED THE MOST OFTEN
angelgazing: ARTHUR IS THE MILK: ALWAYS RELIABLE, BUT WHEN IT'S OFF, IT'S REALLY OFF
gyzym: EAMES CAN BE ANY ITEM HE WANTS!!!
gyzym: HE'S THE FORGER
angelgazing: BWAHAHAHA
gyzym: AND ARTHUR THE MILK
gyzym: AND HE'S LACTOSE INTOLERANT
gyzym: AND HE'S SO, SO BITTER
angelgazing: BWAHAHAHAHAHA
gyzym: AND EAMES IS LIKE, AHAHAHAHAHA YOU ARE ALLERGIC TO YOURSELF
gyzym: FINALLY IT ALL CULMINATES
gyzym: AND ARTHUR IS LIKE, I WILL KILL YOU
gyzym: AND EAMES IS LIKE, WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO, CURDLE?
gyzym: AND FALLS OVER LAUGHING
angelgazing: BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA
gyzym: YUSUF IS THE BAKING SODA, AND PLEASED ABOUT IT
angelgazing: YESSSSS
gyzym: ARIADNE IS A BOX OF STRAWBERRIES
angelgazing: HE SERVES A PURPOSE
gyzym: HE DOES
gyzym: HE IS THE MOST NOBLE ITEM
gyzym: IN THE WHOLE FRIDGE
angelgazing: LOLOLOL
angelgazing: ARIADNE THE STRAWBERRIES
angelgazing: THAT ARE MAYBE GOING A LITTLE BAD
gyzym: SHE'S LIKE, AUGH, THERE IS DEFINITELY SOME MOLD IN HERE
gyzym: YUSUF, DO BETTER
gyzym: AND YUSUF IS LIKE NO NO
angelgazing: BWAHAHAHAHA
gyzym: I AM AN ODOR NEUTRALIZER
gyzym: THAT IS NOT HOW I ROLL
angelgazing: HAHAHAHAHAHA
gyzym: AND EAMES IS STILL LAUGHING
gyzym: AND THEN EVERYONE REALIZES
gyzym: THAT NO ONE KNOWS WHERE COBB IS
angelgazing: COBB IS THE EGGS
angelgazing: A FEW SHORT OF A DOZEN
gyzym: YES
angelgazing: BA DUM BUM
gyzym: OH MY GOD YESSSSSS
gyzym: AND WHEN ARTHUR SAYS "COBB? COBB?"
gyzym: COBB SAYS "I AM CRACKED"
gyzym: AND EAMES FALLS OVER LAUGHING AGAIN
angelgazing: HE JUST ROOOLLS AROUND ON THE SHELF FOR A WHILE
angelgazing: CACKLING
gyzym: AS AN ORANGE
angelgazing: BECAUSE HE LOVES HIS JOB
gyzym: AND ARTHUR IS LIKE ORANGES DON'T EVEN GO IN THE FRIDGE YOU ASSHOLE!
angelgazing: BRIGHTLY COLORED AND DELICIOUS
angelgazing: SO FITTING!
gyzym: AND THEN EAMES REALIZES THAT IF HE TURNS INTO NON-FRIDGE FOOD
gyzym: IT WILL MESS WITH ARTHUR'S SENSE OF ORDER
gyzym: AND HE BECOMES A BOX OF PASTA
gyzym: AND SITS THERE
gyzym: SHAKING WITH LAUGHTER
gyzym: WHILE ARTHUR YELLS

Three: Conversations With My Flist

IT'S COMING, GUYS. THE WEDDING FIC IS COMING. TONIGHT, COME HELL OR HIGH WATER. *SHAKES FIST AT IT*