A toast to 2012
December 30
There won’t be any mention of auld lang syne in this blog. The Sisters rarely use Latin. Not that we wouldn’t if our public education taught us Latin to begin with. Although one of us learned Braille (pathological fear of blindness) and one went to Catholic school (there is a shot at a little Latin retention there) but the third can’t even remember her proper verb conjugations from the 37 semesters she took of Spanish. That being said, these five things were among the things that kept us alive this week.
1. Hooliganism. It has been a long standing tradition in the seven whole months we’ve been doing this weekly feature to share with you new and
scintillating words to add to your vocabulary. It’s just another service to humanity the Quill Sisters offer. This week the delicious little contribution to lexicon building is: hooliganism. Just this week we posted the article where this word was discovered. To be perfectly honest, we believed this word may have been made up by the newspaper reporter that wrote the original article, but we found a bunch of examples when we Googled it. Either way, we don’t care. Hooliganism. Say it and try not to smile. You can’t! Right up there with snackerel, snackage, and kerfuffle, hooliganism can only add amusement to your conversation.
2. Siri. If you don’t have an iPhone 4S, we’re very sorry. Ava refuses to discuss it. Hint: she’s just jealous. We’ve long wanted iPhones because our Samsung phones were such garbage. We wanted speedy phones. Phones that didn’t freeze.
Phones that we weren’t compelled to chuck out the car window at 57 miles per hour. We had no idea when we got our iPhones that we would fall instantly and compellingly in love with Suri. For those of you living in a vacuum, Suri is the android assistant living inside the phone that does all kinds of nifty things. The most fun to be had with Suri is asking weird questions. When we asked her the meaning of life, Suri answered, “42″. When asked if we should wear shorts or a skirt tomorrow, she said, “Amy, I’m not sure what to say.” The answer to her favorite color, “My favorite color is…well, I don’t know how to say it in your language. It’s sort of greenish, but with more dimensions.” I suggested she talk dirty to me and she replied, exasperated, “Amy, I’m not that kind of personal assistant.” Oooohhh, the time that can be wasted…..
3. Not having brain tumors. Don’t freak out. There was never any real risk here. Today, Ava said that she could smell coconut and she thought that might be a symptom of a brain tumor. She heard somewhere that if you smell weird things you should have that checked out. In that particular scenario it was almonds, but surely coconut must mean something equally as ominous. Amylynn suggested that it wasn’t fair if she got a brain tumor by herself. Just when Amylynn asked Suri, “How do I know if I have a brain tumor” Ava realized that it was her tropical Chapstick. So lets recap.
Ava does NOT have a brain tumor, she’s just crazy. Crazy is funny. Smooth, kissble lips always go nicely with a straight jacket.
4. Jesse Ventura. There is nothing funnier than a retired professional wrestler turned governor turned conspiracy theorist. TruTV has started running a show with Mr. Ventura where he does hard-hitting investigative… Forget it. We can’t even finish that sentence without laughing. The Sisters don’t believe in conspiracy theories. Why? Because it has been our experience that you can’t even get four people to keep a secret much less whole divisions of government, but it’s funny watching him try to pull this off. We’ll give you a hint, Mr. Ventura. Yes, they will shoot you if you try to get into Area 51. It’s not a secret. There are signs right there that inform you of that exact outcome. He suggested with outrageous indignation,
“What are they going to do? Kill a former governor?” Yes. Yes, they are, dumb ass. But it’s an amusing way to waste an hour.
I say skip the day your being audited by the IRS
I came to understand that Samoa is changing time zones and skipping a whole day. That is to say that they will go to sleep
on Thursday and wake up on Saturday. I tell you this because The Quill Sisters are all about keeping the Internets informed about the comings and goings of the world. That’s what people say when they come away from our site. “Wow! Those Sisters really have a handle on world news.”
Hahaha. Ah. I love absurdest humor.
Back to the news. I see a lot of possibilities with this concept. Now, the Samoans are doing this in order to be better in line with the Asian Financial markets which increasingly include New Zealand and Australia. I think that’s marvelous. Good for them. I however see all kinds of potentially advantageous implications of this philosophy.
As you may know from my late night ramblings, I am a night person. A late night person. I am the person they made up
the term “night owl” for. Honest to Zeus, I can stay up all night with absolutely no problem whatsoever. However, it doesn’t matter what time I go to bed at night, be it 7pm or 3am, I can’t get up in the morning. If left alone, I will always wake up sometime between 10 and 11am. If you experience insomnia some night and get bored, I’m the person you can call at 1:30 or 2am just to chat. I’ll be up. This being said, I operate on around 5 hours or less of sleep a night. If given the opportunity to just sleep through one entire day…. Well that would be magnolious as my father would say.
I’m thinking about writing my governer – although she’s probably too busy writing stupid books with forwards by even stupider people – and asking if our state can change time zones and skip a day. According to a spokesperson at the Royal Observatory of Greenwich, “the international arbiter of official time”, there is no reason that any country can’t decide to be in any time zone they want. If that’s the case, why can’t that be extended to states? I mean Arizona is a maverick when it comes to timekeeping anyway. We don’t observe Day Light Savings Time. We thumbed our nose at that why not pick a time zone we like better and go with it and skip a day while we’re at it? Do we all have to come to a consensus on the day we want to skip or could we just have one year to pick a day so long as by December 31, 2012 we all end up on the same day?
I wonder about Samoa though. Why skip Friday? Friday is a good day, the best day some say. For crying out loud, skip a Monday or tax day or the day you have to take the dog for vaccinations or the day you have a parent/teacher conference because some kid keeps spitting at people. Skipping Friday is just stupid.
I know! Lets skip December 21, 2012 – that’s the day the Mayans say it all ends anyway. That would solve A LOT of world problems. See – the Sisters are always thinking about others. That’s just how we roll.
My favorite – for this week
Once again www.Criggo.com has amused the hell out of me.
”Hooliganism” might just be my new favorite word. Hooligan in and of itself is a fabulous word but as soon as you add the “ism” it just ratches out of the atmosphere.
Try it out. Say it with me. Hooliganism.
Did you know, if you’re a hooligan you probably participates in a lot of kerfuffles.
Hooooooliganism. My new favorite word.
Now this one doesn’t have any especially fabulous words but it’s pretty damn funny.
Is there an app for that? I totally need that app.
Meet Bambi. Her turn ons are warm coal braziers and steam engines
I was looking for pictures to post for the holidays – pretty Victorian pictures, and instead I found this.
Does anyone else think this is very weird?
Sure, all women stand around in their underwear with their hair done and evening jewelry draped over them reading books in front of open windows.
I guess what it comes down to is this: Men are weird and, mostly, porn is just odd no matter the era.
I wonder if she’s wearing shoes? I don’t suppose they had five inch lucite platform hooker shoes in 1850 did they? So what do you suppose the hooker version of 1850 shoes would be?
Maybe barefoot would be more salacious.
Oh look, now I’ve wasted twenty minutes contemplating Victorian porn.
Christmas was wonderful – now let’s take it all down.
Christmas was lovely – a very Bright-ish version of excess as usual. Now it’s December 26th and I want that damn tree down. It’s lovely but it’s so in the way. Does that make me Scroogish? I don’t know. I don’t care. The damn thing has to go.
Now Ava will take her tree and such down sometime in March. I don’t know how she can put up with it – but Ava really loves Christmas decorations. I’m telling you if our tree was still up in March, I’d set fire to the thing right there in the living room.
That’s the same way I feel about the outside lights, too. The neighbor lady across my street leaves hers up all damn year. I want to get drunk and shoot them out with a BB gun every time I see them in June and August. That is the only thing I can see that having a home owner’s association would be good for.
I hope Santa was good to you all. Santa was extraordinarily good to me. I got a iPhone 4S under the tree! Yippee. I’m still with Sprint – but we’ll see how much happier I am without that blasted Samsung piece of crap. I am enjoying playing with my new toy though. I keep asking Suri – the android assistant who lives in my phone – all kinds of stupid questions. She does all my Googling for me. It’s genius and glorious and I don’t know how I lived without her before nor will I want to go on alone if she should disappear.
I haven’t decided on an appropriate death for the old phone yet, but I’ll come up with something. If you have any suggestions don’t hesitate to share them. It’s really too bad the damn thing can’t bleed. That would be very satisfying.
Just so you don’t think everything was quiet over here, I’ll tell you that on Christmas morning Sassy was up at 2am and then 3am trying to get us to unwrap. At 4:30 I found her out watching television surrounded by wrapped presents. I made her go back to bed. At 7am I awoke to find my bed completely full. There was My Honey, of course, but also, Sassy and The Bandit, Roscoe and Winnie. I could hear the cat snoring under the bed. I wiggled down into the three square inches allotted to me in my own bed and figured I’d doze until the others started waking up. At 7:30 my Mom-in-law rang the doorbell. Lord only knows what time we’d have gotten up if she had not been invited to come watch the kids open. Can you imagine the glories of a Christmas morning that didn’t begin until 10am?
That will be my next year’s Christmas wish: Late mornings and then elves that come on the 26th and take it all down.
Merry Christmas
Merry Christmas Eve
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.
The Sisters are hoping you’re all on the good list this year or that you were so bad and it was so worth it that you don’t care if you’re on the good list or not!
December 23
Tweee! Christmas is almost here! Santa is probably taking a last minute nap and the elves, no matter how jolly they are under normal circumstances, are nearing the end of their ropes and talking union like they do every December 23rd. Holy Yule Tide Cheer, an elf can only tolerate so much before they all start feeling a little Norma Rae. While we weren’t concerning ourselves with Elvish labor relations, we were chuckling over these five things.
1. Outstanding aliases. There were three gentlemen sentenced to prison this week (ho ho ho) for crimes that aren’t humorous in anyway. What was funny was one guy’s alias. The name his mother gave him at birth, Henry Oliver Ford, is a perfectly respectable, reasonable, and normal name. Henry sounds like a stand up fellow. I guess that’s why, in order to get any respect in the criminal underworld, he had to come up with an alias. Are you ready for what he chose? Steady yourself because once we tell you, we can’t take it back. His hand picked alias is “Cleothus Lefty Jackson”. We can’t make this stuff up. If Amylynn picked
that name for a bad guy in her book, Ava and Kelli would never let her keep it. Why? Much too absurd.
2. Sparkly Christmas clothes. Tis the season for sequins. Except for Christmas and New Years Eve there are very few opportunities to wear glittery clothes. It’s a shame really, but still a gal has to have standards. Any other time of the year, with very few exceptions, the Sisters will make fun of sequined women. Hop on over to your favorite hoochie store and grab yourself some bugle beads. Oh what the hell, grab some gold lame while you’re at it. Throw caution to the wind.
3. Silly Christmas Carols. Under normal circumstances, Andrea Bocelli and the Muppets probably wouldn’t be paired together for anything. And how funny is the Bob Rivers song The 12 Pains of Christmas? “Rigging up these lights, indeed!” And anything by Straight No Chaser. You know what we never need to hear ever again though? Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer. We are prepared to run over her ourselves and then use Ava’s new pink gun to shoot the friggin reindeer. We understand reindeer meat makes excellent chili.
4. Hemispheric anomalies. Amylynn had a text conversation with an old friend this week that is still making her giggle. The whole thing began when he made threats regarding the liklihood that he would receive a Christmas card
with a polar bear and a penguin on it. Apparently, it upsets him greatly that people are so stupid as to put two animals together that would never, ever, not even during the apocalypse, meet each other in real life. It would seem that he has put a great deal of thought into this and it amused Amylynn to no end. There are several things she did not point out to her irate friend. The first being that he needs to get over it because if there is one thing the Sisters are 100% sure of is that people are remarkably stupid. And number two, THEY’RE TALKING PENGUINS! Is it alright if Santa meets the penguins? After all he lives on the North Pole with the polar bears and we don’t want anything happening with the space/time continuum.
5. Cookies. How could we slit out wrists when there are still Christmas cookies to eat? Beautiful, sprinkled, frosted bits of pastry goodness. Well, except for oatmeal raisin. We’re not willing to eat oatmeal raisin cookies no matter how you disguise them. It’s the raisins – just can’t do it. It’s a weird word for a weird little “food” item. Sure if you want to eat something that looks like a tick, go right ahead. You can have ours. We, however, will be eating the sugar ones, the cut out snowmen and the gooey chocolate chip ones. We’ve got a whole plate of the twisty, powdered sugar thingys with the fudgey dollop and a cup of coffee. Life is good.
Might need an alibi
My boy was nowhere near any golf courses, but honestly this does seem like something he’d do.
From the funny people over at www.criggo.com














