Gee, it's a shame none of you comment anymore.
I kid! As of this writing, I have over 200 comments on my last post, because I asked you all to tell me how old you are. Faithful Reader Accidental Housewife made me an impressive chart showing all of our ages:
Right now, we are 39.6 years old, on average. Of course, this is highly scientific, seeing as I had about 1,200 readers yesterday and only 200 people gave their ages. But whatever. You want science, go read Darwin's blog.
I wonder what Darwin would call his blog. Bye Bye, Survival Pie!
That made no sense. At all.
Other than the exciting news about our average age and that we got to meet lots of lurkers (hi, lurkers! Thanks for coming out yesterday! I wrote a lot of you back so check your spam!), someone did come up with a BRILLIANT idea. And don't get all offended, whoever you were, that I am calling you "someone." You really want me to comb through all those comments to see who it was? You want combing? Go on Rapunzel's blog.
Bye Bye, Tower in the Sky!
The BRILLIANT idea is this: We have Ask Hulk day.
If you don't read my comments, you're all, Who the Sam Holy Hill is Hulk? And see, this is why if you don't read the comments you are silly in the head.
Hulk is a boy, and my old friend from high school. We were in journalism together. After high school, we only saw each other one time, and that was at a wedding reception. We were having so much fun that we moved on to a bar, which I'm certain was a good idea and probably deeply needed. Cause it was important that we go PAY to drink and hear a bad band.
At any rate, we were having a high time until my on again/off again boyfriend walked in with another girl. Oh, the drama! The purse throwing! The tears!
Thank all that is merciful Hulk recalls nothing of this night. Because ridiculous? Yes. Yes, I was. Plus, I never thought he'd forgive me for throwing his purse.
So, that was 1988, and this year Hulk and I found each other on Facebook and he comments on my blog and all the ladies in the house are bringing their milkshakes to his yard because WOMEN LOVE HULK. He is funny, he is divorced, and I totally have June's Blog and Adultery Services, over here. Seriously. Like, four different women have admitted they have crushes on the Hulk.
And other than his green skin and ripped trousers, he is a fine figure of a man.
So, ask your Ask Hulk Qs today. You could ask him probing Qs about his divorce, or what it was like to watch me throw that purse (which he doesn't remember), or what my hair was like in high school, or what he's looking for in wife number two, whatever. I will gather questions over the weekend and he'll answer next week.
I will leave you now with Marvin's favorite line: "Champagne for my real friends, real pain for my sham friends."
I am sorry to tell you that he really does love that line. But that's not what I meant to say. I MEANT to say I will leave you with pet photos, including everyone's favorite little obligatory, Henry.
Okay, I know this isn't Henry. I just wanted to show you Lula in her element. Someone must have told her that she has to guard the front yard in order to keep living here. She is obsessed. That arm of the couch is filthy from her constant leaning on it, like some fishwife hanging out a window.
I do not know if fishwives really hang out windows. But you know how in movies there's always some wisecracking person in Brooklyn hanging out a window? I mean, not in EVERY movie. It would have made no sense in, say, Jaws. But a fishwife might have made sense in Jaws. "I'm sick of that shark eating my fish husband and all my fish kin! Get him!"
Honestly, do you worry that I take drugs?
HERE we go. It's hard to fathom that Francis used to be SMALLER THAN HENRY. It's hard to fathom that Francis used to be smaller than Mama Cass.
Okay, bye, you 39.6-year-olds.
*UPDATE* It's Saturday morning and I have been working for an hour to get all the Ask Hulk Qs and As onto my blog. So, no more Hulk questions for now, cause I'm about to go to print! How much do you want to whack me for saying "go to print"?
